


if we can make it to the morning, we can get things right

by AndreaLyn



Category: Roswell New Mexico (TV 2019)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Happy Ending, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-17
Updated: 2020-12-17
Packaged: 2021-03-10 17:16:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 22,807
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28130766
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AndreaLyn/pseuds/AndreaLyn
Summary: On the morning of a person’s 25th birthday, they receive a vision of the person they’re meant to spend their life with -- their cosmically bound. The problem for Alex is that his cosmic connection is Michael Guerin, an alien who rejected him years ago, leading Alex to move on. The only natural solution? Dissolving the bond. Alex and Michael journey together through an alien jungle, learning about one another and striving to their end goal of disconnecting their cosmic connection. Even if Alex still has a crush on Michael (despite moving on), he’s not willing to let the universe decide his romantic fate for him.
Relationships: Alex Manes/Original Male Character - Relationship, Michael Guerin/Alex Manes
Comments: 47
Kudos: 107
Collections: Roswell New Mexico Big Bang 2020





	1. The Matching

**Author's Note:**

> This was inspired by a [soulmates prompt](https://andrea-lyn.tumblr.com/post/612340394816045056/faeymouse-concept-soulmates-that-are-so-utterly) on tumblr, though I decided to stray a little from the prompt (and you'll see!)
> 
> Thank you to Tove for the amazing beta, to Emma Arthur for the wildly incredible artwork that is so spot on and perfect, and to all the cheerleaders for supporting this one too as I stupidly endeavored to write two long Big Bangs. The title comes from _Come to Light_ by the Arkells!

Antar and Earth – galaxies apart and held together with a portal – have been entwined as long as Alex Manes can remember. 

Centuries ago, there had been bloody wars when the portals between the worlds had been established. History books talked of battles filled with bloodshed and the wicked acts of villainous aliens, but softened as they approached more recent history, when both sides had to admit that the other maybe wasn’t so bad. 

Maybe it’s just that everyone forgot what they were fighting about in the first place.

Fifty years ago, Earth and Antar struck up a peace treaty. Earth provided a connection for commerce that gave Antar a thriving economy. They also offered an army presence to help quell their civil wars and quieted their bickering factions, which had helped to settle the alien planet’s unrest.

In return, Antar gave Earth the gift of the cosmically bound. 

It allowed humans on Earth the same privilege of Antarians. On your twenty-fifth birthday, all of humanity was given a glimpse of your cosmic connection with both an image of the person and their name whispered to you through the cosmos. The last fifty years have proven that the two planets were intermingled in more than their history, as couples over the years began to flourish that had one half of each species, tying the two worlds together and sealing their fate as partners. 

For most, it’s a day to look forward to.

For Alex, it’s a day he’s dreading. 

He turns twenty-five tomorrow, and the nerves about what’s going to happen are ruining his private birthday party with his boyfriend. He’s pretty sure his boyfriend can feel the tension and he wishes he could flip a switch to fix that, but he worries that it’s a lost cause, even with Trent trying to make him feel better about it.

“You look nervous,” Trent says as he pushes hair back from Alex’s forehead, settling into his lap. “Wanna go over the plan again?”

Alex nods. 

“Yeah,” he agrees. “Yeah, I think I do.” He’s not a romantic, deep down, and while he and Trent have been dating for a while, he’s not expecting his face to be the one that Alex sees, but that’s fine. 

After all, the point of his plan is that he refuses to allow some universal assignment system to fuck up his life. Alex isn’t the only one who thinks the system is bullshit. There’s no way to opt out, so everyone is victim to their lives being completely overturned. In the first year after the peace treaty, when everyone suddenly received flashes of their cosmically bound, divorce rates and breakups skyrocketed to unheard of levels.

Alex refuses to be like them. 

He got his life together years ago and while it’s not like he thinks Trent is the love of his life, he stubbornly balks at the idea of someone else telling him what to do and feel and think. The idea that some flash of a face should control who he loves is insanity. He’s been to a few protests that have been trying to dismantle the system, but they always fall on deaf ears.

In exchange for peace on Antar, they gave Earth the cosmically bound. Why would they stop now?

The key argument for keeping the system in place is that you _can_ opt out. It’s just not until after the fact and it’s not easy, which is why the protests haven’t stopped. “Whoever I see, I’ll find them,” Alex begins, going over the beginnings of the plan. He looks up at Trent, focusing on him. 

Trent’s hair curls a little at his forehead, blond with a few hints of early grey in there. His angular face is serious and intense, every bit as interested in Alex’s plan as Alex. He’s lean and while he’s in Alex’s lap, he feels like he hardly weighs anything, and his green eyes are fixated on him. He’s gorgeous and he’s good to Alex.

It's a shame that Alex isn’t wildly in love with him, not even a little.

“And once you find them?” Trent prods.

“Then we go through the process to nullify the bond, separating the cosmic ties. Easy as,” Alex quips. He knows it won’t be that easy, because he’s done his research.

There are so many things that could go wrong. While fatality rates during the nullifying process aren’t high, Alex kind of worries that he might get hurt, or that something worse will happen – like he’ll end up eating his words and find that he actually loves his cosmically bound, which would be the kind of karmic joke he feels the universe might play on him.

The universe shouldn’t get to tell Alex who he loves. That’s for him to choose. 

“Do you want me to take your mind off it?”

Alex looks at Trent as he starts to make his way down Alex’s body, clearly intent on getting his mouth on Alex’s dick and distracting him. Truthfully, he’s really into it, because he could use something to take his mind off of it. Tangling his fingers in Trent’s hair, he lets the curls wind around his fingers as he pushes him down.

Lying back, he lets Trent take care of him, and even though he has no real expectation that tomorrow he’ll wake up with Trent’s face in his mind, he spares a moment to think about how _easy_ and comfortable it would be if it was.

It’s not like they’re an explosive kind of love, but it works.

Maybe this’ll be what he decides he wants in the long run, and maybe not. The point is that he wants to make that decision for himself. 

Once Trent is finished, he murmurs softly that Alex doesn’t have to do anything for him in return, because it’s his day. “Happy early birthday, Alex,” Trent murmurs, wiping at the corners of his lips as he crawls back up to wrap his arms around Alex, holding him snug and tight and secure.

It's good, Alex thinks. Why should it have to be _fated_?

The comfort of knowing he has a plan helps to soothe him to an easy sleep, far from the stressed night he'd expected. He doesn’t dream of anything at all, a peaceful night of sleep, almost like his mind is preparing him for the grand revelation of what’s coming.

He wakes up, twenty-five years old, and waits for the vision. 

Alex doesn’t have to wait very long. Within moments of waking up, his mind provides a crystal-clear image in his mind, flickers of a man, with a bright smile and soft-looking curls, strong and calloused hands, and eyes that don’t bother to hide the intelligence lurking behind them. 

Alex closes his eyes as the name drifts across his consciousness like a wisp of smoke. _Michael Guerin_ , it murmurs, and Alex’s mind floods with images he doesn’t need as it shows him his cosmic connection. 

He knows exactly who Michael is. He’s seen him in town, with his cowboy hat and his belt buckle, doing his best impersonation of a human being, even though everyone knows he’s one of Antar’s top scientists (who happens to consult for their army). He seems to like hanging around, spending his days working with Earth’s scientific associations. Lately, he’s been working on a project with JPL to help them with alien technology and he’s in Roswell because the Air Force opened up some testing ground for him to work on his theories.

He’s gorgeous, he’s smart, but Alex doesn’t really know him. 

Workaholic is a gentle term to use about Michael, who ignores most people in town. Once, when he’d first arrived (before Trent), Alex had tried to buy him a drink at the Pony, but Michael had brushed him off, choosing instead to drink alone and work on his schematics. Alex hadn’t bothered trying to flirt after that, seeing as it was plenty clear he didn’t want that kind of thing.

Seeing as Michael has no interest in him, breaking apart this bond ought to be easy. It’s the first relief that he’s felt since he started researching how to nullify a bond.

“Well?” Trent asks, giving him a hopeful look from where he’s standing at the bathroom door, toweling off his hair, and wearing a pair of Alex’s boxers. He must have woken up before Alex, maybe on purpose, waiting for this moment.

He looks so _hopeful_ , like maybe Alex would wake up and it would be Trent that’s in his mind, but Alex had already known it wouldn’t be that. Alex gives him an apologetic smile, and shakes his head to stop him from hoping. 

“Sorry.”

Trent musters up a smile, shrugging like it’s not a big deal. “We didn’t expect it to be me, right? Are you still going to nullify it?”

Alex nods, seeing as he already knows Michael doesn’t want him romantically. 

“See?” Trent’s still smiling and there’s no tension in it. Alex insisting that he’s still going through with the nullifying seems to be all that he needs. He ducks back into the bathroom to hang the towel, crawling back onto the bed. “When are you going to go?”

“As soon as I can,” Alex says, sitting up to start getting his things together. He’s been preparing for this day for weeks, and the spare backpack he’d made for the journey with his faceless partner has been sitting in the closet. 

Grabbing a pair of jeans, he dresses quickly, tugging on a black t-shirt and not paying much attention to his appearance otherwise as he slips a pair of comfortable shoes on. He’s going to ask Guerin to disconnect a bond, not to impress him. He doesn’t need to put product in his hair or worry about how he looks.

“I gotta know,” Trent says, watching as Alex gets ready. “Who is it?” he asks, eyes bright with excitement, like he’s about to learn some exciting gossip. “Anyone I know?”

Alex glances up as he roots through the closet to dig out the go bag, knowing that he should be honest. He should tell him that it’s Guerin, especially seeing as Trent _would_ know him, and he’ll notice when they’re both gone. Instead, though, he shakes his head. “Nah,” he says dismissively. “No one important.”

Trent nods and reaches for the bag. “You know them, though?”

“I’ll look them up,” Alex keeps going, hating that the lie is compounding, but not wanting Trent to worry about someone that he actually knows. That’s all it is. He doesn’t need Trent getting jealous for no reason, and definitely not because of a complicated crush that Alex had when he first met him. 

The crush is long over, he tells himself. He’s barely thought about Guerin in months. That means it’s definitely over. 

“I don’t know how long it’s going to take,” Alex warns him. “But I’m going to break the bond,” he vows, cupping Trent’s face as he leans in to kiss him, securing his promise. 

“What happens if your person doesn’t want to break the bond?” Trent asks, that frisson of doubt clear in his words. “What if they see you for the incredibly hot, talented, amazing guy you are and they want to be with you?”

Alex would love to believe that things could be that easy, but his cosmic connection turned him down for a drink and a first date. He really doubts Guerin is about to fight tooth and nail to keep their bond alive. Besides, Alex has someone. 

“I already told you,” Alex vows, voice reinforced with steel and stubbornness. “No one tells me how to live my life, no one tells me who I get to love. They can admire me all they like, but that doesn’t mean they own a part of me. That’s why I’m going. That’s why I’m severing the bond.”

Alex is his own person and no galactic _gift_ is going to change that. If he has to go through a dozen obstacle courses to prove that, then so be it. 

Let the challenges begin.

* * *

“Guerin. It’s me. Open up.”

Guerin probably already knows why he’s here. 

_His_ birthday had been months ago, which means that he’s known about their connection since then, but has been giving Alex space. He appreciates it, but there’s something they can do other than just ignore it, and Alex intends to take that route. If he can _find_ the man, that is.

He knocks a little harder on Guerin’s Airstream door, not getting an answer.

Wandering a little further into the junkyard, he sees an open hatch. Frowning, he heads in that direction and peers down into what looks like an intensive underground lab. “Guerin, are you down there?” 

“Present and accounted for,” Guerin’s voice comes up from below, voice echoing.

Alex grips the side of the hatch door, debating whether he wants to go down a bunch of creepy-looking steps into what looks like a fallout shelter. It looks grungy and dark and more than a little like a serial killer’s comfortable abode. 

Yeah, he’s _not_ going down there.

“Can you come up? I want to talk.”

The curls pop up first when Guerin starts ascending the ladder, then Guerin’s smirk as he looks up to give Alex a closer look at the grease smeared all over him. The moment the rest of him emerges, the smell of rain suddenly permeates the area, and Alex inhales sharply before tucking the thought of how _good_ it smells to the side. 

“What? My creepy murder bunker isn’t good enough for you?” he quips.

“I don’t know how to appreciate nice things,” Alex plays along with ease. 

That gets an appreciative laugh and a nod from Guerin, and he looks him over thoughtfully while prying off a pair of gloves and removing his goggles from his forehead. “It’s your twenty-fifth birthday, huh?”

Alex gives him a nod, feeling like he won’t have to say what he’s here for. 

“Seeing as you don’t look like you’re here to make a love confession or drag me into the Airstream for a quickie, I take it that you want to nullify the bond,” Guerin says, eyeing the backpack over Alex’s shoulder. “…now, apparently?” 

Alex pries it off and shoves it at him. “This is for you. Supplies, things we might need. I’ll bring my own, but I wanted to give you the chance to load it up with the things you might want when we go on the journey together.”

“Seriously? That’s it, huh? No coffee, no dinner,” Guerin says, leaning back on his elbows against a workstation that’s cluttered with a mess of tools, auto parts, and spaceship pieces. “You don’t even want to try a kiss to see if there’s anything between us? It’s right to nullifying the bond?”

Alex levels him with a dubious look.

“I tried to buy you a drink when you first got to town and you preferred a roll of blueprints for company,” Alex reminds him. “So, no,” he scoffs. “I don’t want to do coffee or dinner with my cosmically bound when he’s already rejected me. You clearly have stuff on your plate, I have a boyfriend, and the universe doesn’t get to swan in and tell me I’m doing it wrong.”

Guerin ducks his head down, but Alex still sees his amused smile, as if Alex is being _adorable_ for wanting what he does (that, or stupid). “So you wanna get split for the boyfriend?”

“I’d want it even if I were single,” Alex argues, feeling like it’s important to make that clear.

It’s not about Trent. It’s about the control he wants over his own life.

Guerin seems to respect that, given the way he’s nodding. “I get it,” he agrees, reaching over to take the backpack like an olive branch. Alex tries to steady himself under Guerin’s lusty stare, but he reminds himself that this is Michael Guerin. He’s got that filthy stare down to an art and he uses it on anyone who walks through the Pony doors who happens to be attractive.

Alex might be today’s target, but he’s not the only one. He’s not special, no matter what a vision says. The key part about that stare is Guerin’s lack of follow-through. That’s why they never got a chance, right?

“Meet me at the New Mexico portal tomorrow at nine,” Alex instructs, a little annoyed with Guerin’s cavalier attitude, though it does help to reinforce the decision that this is the best avenue to walk down. 

“Sir, yes, sir,” Guerin quips.

Alex rolls his eyes. “I left the Air Force behind four years ago,” is his bitter comment.

Which is to say that he’d been discharged because he’d been caught making out with a superior officer in a supply closet. Funny how it doesn’t matter that no one _asked_ when he’d been caught red-handed, what with his actions doing all the damning telling.

His telling actions, in that case, being that he got caught with his hands on another man’s dick.

“You can take the man out of the Air Force, but you can’t take the top out of the man,” Guerin says, giving Alex’s ass a light smack with the gloves he’s been using. 

Alex breathes out steadily, rolling his eyes at the ridiculous move, wishing that it didn’t get his heart racing like he’s had an electric shock. He reminds himself why he’s here, he reminds himself how Guerin _rejected_ him, he thinks of Trent, he thinks of his own autonomy.

Enough of those thoughts and eventually he can breathe normally. It’s only disconcerting how many of them it had taken.

“Nine in the morning,” Alex clarifies stringently, having visions of Guerin turning up twelve hours too late.

Guerin wiggles a sharpie where Alex can see it, prying the cap off with his teeth so he can scribble it on his dirty hand, which absolutely needs a wash. “0900,” he echoes dutifully, spreading his palm out so Alex can see the looping large numbers on his palm. “I’ll see you there.” He lifts up the backpack, capping the sharpie again. “Thanks for the souvenir.”

“Helpful supplies,” Alex says in weak protest, knowing there’s no chance of winning that argument.

Guerin’s already vanishing back down into the bunker, leaving Alex wondering whether this is going to be a _complete_ disaster or if there’s any chance at all of salvaging it. The backpack is the last thing that goes, and Alex is left hoping that he’s not about to be stood up. 

Other than physically hauling Guerin to the portal, hoping happens to be his best option.

(After all, Alex really doesn’t want to resort to Plan D, which involves a healthy helping of pollen-infused sedatives if it comes to that)

His last night before the journey has an awkward pall cast over it. Alex knows it’ll be his last night with Trent for a while, but he’s consumed with worry and he keeps going over all the literature he’s read about the journey he’s about to go on instead of spending it with Trent watching a movie or having dinner together. 

It’s probably disappointing for Trent that Alex rolls away every time he’s touched, more interested in reading about the possible scenarios they’re in for than sex. He needs to prepare for this so it doesn’t go wrong and he can come back. There’ll be plenty of time for sex then. He’s too amped up on the prospect of failing to be able to shut his brain off and indulge.

He keeps running hypothetical scenarios in his mind. What happens if he doesn’t make it through? What happens if he doesn’t finish the severing and he stays bound to a flirtatious workaholic with commitment issues? It doesn’t matter that Alex used to have a crush on him, he doesn’t want to get tied down to some cosmic vision that thinks it knows better. Those hypotheticals combine to become a toxic mix of fears and doubts that rob Alex of a good night’s sleep. 

Come morning, he has a headache, his eyes ache, and he’s far from his best. He’s also _late_ , which means he has to sprint if he’s going to make it to the portal on time, and that lack of control leaves him in a sour mood. 

“Good luck, babe,” Trent says, staring at him anxiously -- probably because he’s worried Alex might bite his head off, seeing as he’s no fun to be around when he’s sleep-deprived.

He’s late for work, purposefully lingering so he can part ways with Alex. It’s sweet, but Alex can’t help thinking that Trent shouldn’t be risking getting in trouble at work for him, especially not for this.

He’s coming back. He’s going to be fine. 

“I don’t need luck,” Alex reminds him, somewhat annoyed at the idea that with all his skills and talents, Trent thinks it comes down to luck. Clearly, his lack of sleep is also making him bitchy.

Trent gives him a fond grin. “I know. You’re Superman.”

“Damn right,” Alex agrees, and gives him a quick kiss. “I’m gonna be fine,” he promises. “My cosmically bound isn’t going to let me get hurt, they’ll take care of me.” It’s the wrong thing to say. Hurt flickers across Trent’s face for a moment before he shutters it away, his face going completely blank. He cups Trent’s face. “They’ll make sure nothing happens to me, and I’ll do the rest.”

Neither of them mention the fact that it’ll go the other way too. Guerin will make sure Alex stays safe and he’ll do the same. 

It’s what anyone would do, Alex thinks. If it’s not, it’s what they _should_ and that’s just basic human decency.

The drive out to the portal takes him just under an hour, seeing as the aliens had settled New Mexico’s connecting wormhole fairly close to Roswell. It’s why Guerin’s settled in town. It’s easy for him to pop in and out, but the rumor mill around town says he prefers Earth because there are fewer expectations, fewer relatives, and much better beer. 

Alex fiddles with the radio until he finds an alt-rock station and lets it soothe his mind as he drives, trying his best to shut his brain off. Even Brendon Urie’s vocals don’t do the trick, with Alex obsessing over each and every scenario that could possibly happen. 

When the portal is in sight, Alex is so relieved that he feels a physical ache loosen from his body.

It’s not much to look at - they were set up like roadside tourist stops. There’s a sign advertising it for miles and all, even though you need coordinates to be able to activate it and travel through (ones that Alex has in his possession thanks to the local consulate). He parks in the little parking lot, ignoring the departing family (cameras still being tucked away, thrilled to have witnessed some alien technology). 

Popping the trunk, Alex checks his watch. It’s ten to nine. He grabs his khaki jacket and slides it on before grabbing his backpack, locking up.

At five to nine, he’s at the side of the portal, shifting his weight from foot to foot. He’s read the placard in front of it, marking it as the New Mexico Antarian Portal six times now. He’s debated going to the bathroom before he makes the galactic journey, but it’s almost nine.

He waits, instead.

At nine, there still isn’t another car on the horizon. Alex tenses his jaw. It’s fine, it’s barely nine, and Alex figures that he might have gotten held up in preparing for the trip. 

That willingness to forgive bleeds away little by little, with every passing minute. 

Suddenly, it’s a good bit past nine and Guerin’s _still_ not at the portal.

That _asshole_. If he’s bailing on Alex, then he’s going to march right over to his Airstream and physically drag him through the trial in order to make this happen. He’s pacing back and forth, about to call Trent to viciously complain about his luck having an unprepared, uncoordinated, selfish, shitty cosmic match when he hears the rattling engine of a truck nearby. 

He hates that he’s relieved, which means he probably swings too much the other way with the crossing of his arms over his chest and the sneering at Guerin as he saunters out of his car, without a care in the world. 

His tone isn’t much better when he lets loose with a bitchy, “It’s nine eighteen.”

Guerin gapes at him as he approaches, _without his backpack_ , and laughs in disbelief. “Wait, seriously? We don’t have an appointment,” he points out, unscrewing a flask of acetone and taking a sip before he slides it back into his denim jacket. “So what if we’re a little late.” The 0900 on his hand has been scrubbed away, which at least tells Alex that he _bathes_. 

He inhales sharply, getting a good noseful of that smell of rain once more, but any heady drifting off needs to wait until later. He decides to focus on the very visibly missing object. 

“Where’s the backpack I gave you?”

Guerin shrugs, lifting up the flask again, followed by patting the pockets of his jeans, which do seem to have something in them. “I got everything I need right here.”

“Unbelievable,” Alex mutters under his breath, storming towards the portal controls to start putting in their destination. Maybe he won’t have to worry about severing the bond if Guerin intends to get himself killed in the process. He dials in the coordinates that are on the instruction text he’d received from the local Antarian diplomat, watching as the portal pops to life, shimmering with iridescent pinks and shifting golds. He looks towards it, then back to Guerin, who hasn’t taken his eyes off Alex the whole time.

“Last chance to back out and live a tangled life of romance with yours truly,” Guerin says, waggling his brows like he’s offering Alex a great deal. 

Alex laughs and shakes his head.

“That your best offer, Guerin?” 

“Hey, an alien has to try.” He’s grinning, though, which tells Alex that the offer hadn’t been serious. He nods towards the portal, like he’s ready to go on whatever journey that Alex has in mind. “C’mon, let’s go get nullified.”

He vanishes into the pink light of the portal. 

Alex spares one last look for the area around him, a place that he knows and has familiarity and comfort with. When he goes through that portal to Antar, that will disappear, but he’s doing this for a reason and he’s _ready_. 

It’s time to take back control of his romantic life.

* * *

Antar isn’t what he was expecting.

Alex wipes at his sweaty forehead for the third time since they walked out of the portal, sweltering in the heat of a summer that apparently lasts for six months. The jungle that the portal led them to isn’t helping matters, with the heat seeming to get worse the deeper they go. 

It’s a lush environment with palm fronds that seem to eclipse any that you’d find on Earth, and while the temperature is bearable, the humidity makes it feel like every breath Alex takes is heated. For aliens that have a higher body temperature, this probably doesn’t even register, but Alex is dressed for any scenario. He’d read about quests through ice tundra and desert planes that go icy at night. 

He might be prepared, but right now, he thinks he’s already sweat right through his t-shirt.

“That get-up feeling good to you now?” Guerin quips, gesturing to Alex’s many layers.

While he might not have stuck with the military, some of his training still stayed in his mind. He pries off his top layer and shoves it in his bag, glaring at Guerin when the lack of the khaki jacket on top of his long-sleeved shirt and t-shirt does feel a lot better. “You could have told me what we were walking into.”

“I didn’t know.” 

“How is it I don’t believe that? You’re from Antar,” Alex retorts sarcastically. 

“Yeah,” Guerin agrees, gesturing for Alex to walk down the path. “And there’s like, fifty different scenarios for breaking a cosmic bond, I didn’t know which one we were gonna get. I might have connections, but they don’t owe me many favors these days. Come on,” he encourages. “Starting point and the delegate who’s here to meet up and manage this is up ahead.”

Alex quickly strips off his second layer, leaving only the blue Air Force t-shirt (which, as expected, has sweat stains everywhere), following after Guerin once he gets his backpack securely on. He has to jog a little to catch up, which is no easy matter in the heat, but eventually he's at Guerin’s side.

“How do you know all this?”

Guerin gives him a passive shrug. “Believe it or not, for a while, I thought of maybe going into the delegate career. It seemed easy. You know? You stand at the start and then the finish line and ask a few questions. Where’s the trouble?” 

“So, why didn’t you?”

“Because, it seemed easy,” he echoes his previous words with a playful grin. “I don’t like things that are easy. I want the challenge, giving my brain something to work on. Science was the way for me.” Alex stops to look at him and the way he looks like he’s dazed and dreaming, a little like he’s in love with his work.

It’s unsurprising, given that Guerin’s work had been the initial wedge between them. Things clearly haven’t changed.

“Hey,” Guerin says, lightly tapping Alex’s elbow and pointing behind him. “Look. Our quest awaits.”  
At the end of the dusty path, there’s a regal woman waiting for them beside a small pinkish glowing plinth, looking a bit like a goddess herself given the proud way she’s standing tall. 

“Shit,” Guerin says laughing as he picks up his pace. “Isobel! What the hell are you doing out here?”

“My job,” she says with a wry smirk. “I heard that you were coming to put in a bid for a severing, and once I saw the name come across my desk, I took the gig.” Her gaze slides to the side, flickering over Alex, and then back to Guerin. 

He remembers her, because how could you forget Isobel? She’d come to Roswell a few years back, staying with Guerin at the time. Several years later, she’d left to return to Antar, sniffing about Earth’s sad facilities. 

Guerin glances towards Alex with a bemused smirk.

“You registered us, huh?”

“That’s what you’re supposed to do,” Alex snaps back, heated by the implication that they could just show up and do this without planning first.

Isobel hides her smile behind her palm, clearing her throat so she can look at them with a calm expression. “He’s right, Michael,” she points out. “If you want to go through this process, you have to put all the paperwork in. Alex submitted it two months ago and added your name last night.”

“Wow,” Guerin drawls, elongating that vowel. “Two months ago? You hated even the _idea_ of me that much.” His hands clasp his chest over his heart. “You wound me, Alex Manes, right to my core.”

Ignoring him, Alex keeps his attention on Isobel.

“Has he always been like this?” he wonders.

“This is him being mature,” Isobel confides, sneakily leaning forward like she’s willing to break the dignity and requirements of the delegate role in order to gossip. “And yes, I see you, Michael. You can put your tongue back in your mouth. Alex already said he wants to break up your bond, that’s not going to do you any good.”

Guerin ambles over to the plinth to lean on it, smirking at Alex from over Isobel’s shoulder.

“Can we start this?” Alex asks curtly.

“Impatient, huh? Gotta get back to that boyfriend of yours?”

Alex ignores him, looking at Isobel instead. He’ll have plenty of time to deal with Guerin on this quest ahead of them. Right now, he’d rather deal with the only other mature person in the nearby vicinity. 

“Can we please get started?” he asks again, but this time, is looking at Isobel and ignoring the way Guerin has looped both arms around the plinth, hugging it like he’s drunk and needs something to grab onto.

Isobel gives him an amused look, reaching over to tug on Guerin’s hand, pulling him over. “C’mon, dipshit,” she says fondly. “You trained for this. You know the drill.” She positions him with both feet shoulder-width apart, gesturing for Alex to stand in a similar position beside him.

He does, standing at attention even though Isobel only _seems_ like the kind of person who might suddenly start barking out military orders.

“Michael Guerin, Alex Manes. You stand here today at the beginning of your quest to nullify your cosmic bond. Before you lies your path. Complete it and meet me at the end, where you will be asked the same questions as I put before you now. Answer the same and your bond and all expectations towards one another will be severed.”

The bond, the expectations.

She never says anything about the connection.

Alex tucks it away, thinking that it doesn’t matter. He’s been fine having a crush on Guerin for years without acting on it, it doesn’t matter if he still feels something for him. It’ll live in the back of his mind, like a melody that won’t quite shake free. The point is that he gets to choose who to be with; it won’t be the universe’s decision and he definitely won’t be subject to some societal expectation that if he has a bondmate, he should be with them. 

“Now for the official part. Are you both here of your own free will?”

“Yes,” Alex confirms, while Guerin nods his head dutifully. 

Good. He’d been half-worried that Guerin might pull some kind of joke and protest, because it’s _funny_. Luckily, he didn’t, so they can keep going without him worrying this will all fall apart. 

“And do you wish to sever your cosmic bond?”

This time, it’s Guerin who speaks first. “Cut it loose, baby,” he says.

Isobel gives him a withering look, then turns to Alex. “Yes,” Alex confirms, in a much more mature way. 

That seems to satisfy her. She studies Alex for a long, silent minute, as if cataloguing the expression on his face. She turns that gaze to Michael, then looks between them. If Alex didn’t know any better, he’d say she’s reading them for body language, micro-expressions, and other elements that she’ll assess at the end.

One thing he never truly considered was that he might _fail_ on this quest, because of something out of his control. 

“Thank you,” Isobel says, nodding as she finally breaks her silence. “If you reach the top, I’ll be waiting for you there. Once there, you’ll be asked the same question,” she explains. “I’ll ask if you want to nullify your bond. If the answer remains yes, then I’ll sever it,” she promises. “Good luck.”

“Wait,” Alex says, as she walks away towards a portal. “Hey! Wait!”

It’s no use. Before he can stop her, Isobel vanishes through the portal. Alex whirls on Guerin in a mild panic, gaping at him. 

“She said ‘if’.”

“Yup,” Guerin agrees, the ‘p’ popping.

“If we reach the top? Is that genuinely something that might not happen? Guerin, I thought fatality rates on this were low!” 

Guerin reaches down to pick up a stick, hefting it in his hands like he’s assessing it as a walking stick, giving him an amused look. “It’s always an if. Legal thing,” he promises. “Come on, your cosmically bound is an alien with telekinetic powers, you’re not gonna die out here, Alex,” he promises, leaning in and making a soft little _moue_ with his lips. “I’ll protect you,” he whispers, kissing his cheek and ducking back as quick as he’d leaned in, like he’s avoiding any smack that he might earn for that little move.

The kiss is…

(Amazing, _too forward_ , soft, _annoying_ , charming, _douchey_ , cute, _stupid_ , ridiculously…)

Well, it’s like Guerin. It’s a contradiction and makes Alex feel things that he wishes he didn’t.

Alex stares up at the pyramid-like jungle climb, knowing that this isn’t going to be a matter of a few hours. If they move quickly, they could be done in days. Given the way that Guerin already seems to be lazily moving along at a pace that’ll drag this out and the potential for threats and dangers unseen, Alex gets the sense that it won’t be so easy.

It’s also clever, he can admit.

Force two people who want to split up to spend weeks together, then see if they still want to break apart. 

Though if they think that Alex is going to change his mind, they’ve got another thing coming. 

It’s not like other cosmic bonds. Guerin doesn’t want him like that. He’s flirty, sure, and he’s handsome (god, he’s handsome), but he doesn’t want to give up the life he’s living -- not for Alex, not for anyone, by the looks of it.

“I guess we get started,” says Alex, staring up at the challenge before them.

“We got started the minute Isobel sized us up,” Guerin replies, nodding for him to follow along. “Come on. They might want to make this seem like a challenge, but there’s still a path we can follow.” He nudges Alex forward, intending to protect his six, and Alex is grateful to Guerin for letting him lead. 

He can set the pace, he can assess the threats. He can get them out of here without delay.

The only thing standing between him and his romantic freedom is a mountain in the jungle to climb. 

No one said this was going to be easy. 

Glancing over his shoulder to make sure Guerin is falling in line with him -- and he is, traipsing along like he’s on a casual walk in the park -- Alex sets his mind on the mission. 

It’s time to get control back, so _he_ can decide who he falls for and not the universe.


	2. The Journey

The first day of hiking passes uneventfully, though it drives Alex a little insane when it seems like they’ve covered no distance at all. The peak above them looms as distantly as it did when they set out, and they’ve only stopped because the sun’s gone down and Guerin is wary about the dangers that lie in the jungle. 

“Trust me,” he’d said, “We want to be able to see what’s out there.”

Alex, unused to so much activity, doesn’t need much more convincing. His legs ache from the hiking, so he allows Guerin to strike up a fire and put up a tarp to protect them from the elements while he tries to work the cramps away with his hands. 

Once they’ve settled, Guerin sprawls out, whittling a piece of wood with a knife that he’d dug out from his pocket, which had been in Alex’s backpack. It looks like some things had actually made the jump from backpack to Guerin’s person, after all. 

“How come you want to nullify this thing?” Guerin asks him, gesturing to him over the flickering fire. Alex has been eating beef jerky from his bag, but Guerin keeps declining, choosing instead to snack on berries that he’s picked on their journey, pausing in between whittling to pop them into his mouth.

Alex knows that this is Guerin’s home planet and he knows the flora, but there’s a buzzing worry in the back of his mind that those things could be poisonous. 

“This whole cosmic binding thing is stupid.”

Guerin scoffs, but he’s grinning like he’s secretly pleased to hear it. “Definitely go on. My family won’t let me bitch about it, it’s refreshing to hear it from someone else.”

He’s got an inch, so Alex takes the mile.

“I’m twenty-five, not twelve. I have a career, I know who I am now, and the idea that some divine interference from the cosmos gets to swoop in and tell me who I’m supposed to spend the rest of my life with is insulting and kind of annoying,” Alex complains, his words growing more vicious. “I get that your people have more knowledge at their fingertips because of your powers, but I should be in control of my own romantic destiny. The cosmic match should be a suggestion, not a life sentence.”

“Romantic,” Guerin deadpans. “You’re really lucky that I’m not exactly waiting around for roses and chocolate.”

Alex lets out a soft snort, wondering if there’s a different world where he would’ve turned up at Guerin’s door with those things, pleading for a second chance. He’s got way too much dignity to go down that route in this world, though.

“What about you? You didn’t exactly put up much of a fight,” Alex points out. “No wining and dining, no passionate plea for me to rethink what I’m asking. How come you’re so quick to want to nullify the bond?”

“I don’t like being told what to do.”

That one’s clear. From Guerin’s behavior in Roswell to all the rumors about his time on Antar, Alex has figured out that the quickest way to get Guerin to do something is to demand he do the opposite given how many times he’s seen that exact practice in play at the Pony. 

“The universe doesn’t get to tell me who I love or want,” Guerin keeps going, with a low undercurrent of threat in his words. “I pick that. Nullifying this gives me the power to choose whoever I want. Cosmic or not,” he finishes, his eyes set on Alex. 

The connection between them feels more honest than some of the other times Guerin stared at him. It catches him off guard, but he holds his ground. Alex digs the heel of his palm into his leg, but he doesn’t stop staring back at him, wondering what kind of person Guerin would choose.

What kind of man or woman (or otherwise) would be right for an alien like Guerin?

He lets that distracting thought take over as he keeps working his muscles. 

At least, until Guerin notices what he’s doing. 

“Hey,” Guerin says, gesturing to where Alex is rubbing at his legs. “You okay?”

“Just sore,” Alex admits. “When I was serving, I did a lot of activity, but I’ve gone soft recently.” He’s pursued music and programming, two different types of composition, and while he should work out more, being in a relationship with Trent has settled him into a bit of a rut. Hiking all day means his quads are screaming from the sudden jump in activity.

Guerin shifts a little and tucks away the knife, wiping at the berry residue on his hands by dragging them over his jeans. He leans towards Alex, gesturing to him.

“Let me.”

Alex warily looks back at him. “Let you what?”

“Alex,” Guerin chides quietly, and rests his hand near Alex’s knee, squeezing lightly. “Let me.” He brushes his thumb over Alex’s pants, digging into it, which makes Alex’s muscles jump even though he has to bite down on the moan that threatens to escape. “Look at you, so tense,” Guerin quips.

Alex isn’t sure he wants to point out that he’s not tense because his muscles are sore, and more because Guerin’s skillful hands are being offered to ease him of his aches and pains. Still, he’s stuck on this mountain with Guerin and refusing an offer made in good faith seems stupid, especially when it’s the sort of thing that could help.

He relents and takes his hands off his leg, giving Guerin a nod of permission. 

It’s not like he’s touch-starved. Trent touches him all the time in bed with soft touches that Alex loves to soak up. It shouldn’t be such a big deal for Guerin to work at his leg like this, but somehow, it’s different.

He’s not even sure how to explain it other than it _is_.

“Hey,” Guerin says, squeezing his thigh tightly. “Relax. You went tighter.”

Alex knows he did, but it’s because his muscles have refused to relax. Guerin’s hands on him are foreign and exciting at once and he’s praying that he doesn’t end up reacting any worse than this, because he’s not sure he could live it down. “Sorry,” he manages, a gruff exhalation as he counts to ten and lets his muscles start to give way.

Soon, the only tension left are remnants of a hard day’s hike.

“There we go,” Guerin praises, with clear approval. He settles at Alex’s side and keeps kneading the muscles of his leg. They slip into an easy silence and Alex leans back to rest his head on his backpack. 

He’s expecting that silence to continue, but Guerin’s not on the same page.

“You didn’t mention your boyfriend.”

“What?” 

“I asked you why you wanted to nullify our cosmic bond, but you didn’t bring up your boyfriend as a key reason,” Guerin says, digging his thumb into a particularly stubborn knot that has Alex jumping up and yelping with the pain. “Easy,” Guerin soothes. “Easy now,” he repeats and works the knot into a duller ache.

“You know him?”

“Roswell’s not a big town. I know that you’re dating someone,” Michael admits. “He’s not enough to make the top of your list of reasons to nullify?”

Alex stares Guerin down with an irritated and angry look. “It shouldn’t matter who I’m dating. This is about me, not who I’m with.”

“So things are rough between you?”

“I never said that!” Alex snaps, wondering how the hell this conversation got so out of control. He swears he’d been managing just fine, until Guerin started to ask about Trent, poking at wounds he hadn’t even thought existed. Or, maybe, he’s known that they’re there, he just doesn’t want to think about the schisms that have started to appear. 

Guerin looks like he’s biting back something he wants to say, and Alex is in just enough of a mood to be willing to hear it, if only so he can shut down whatever stupid idea he has. 

“Say it.”

“He didn’t come to see you off, either,” Guerin says, the words spilling out at once like if he says them slowly, he won’t get them out. “If I were dating someone and I were heading off to an alien planet, I’d definitely be there. If only to see who the cosmically bound is.”

“Well maybe Trent trusts me,” Alex counters sharply. “And maybe I told him that I don’t want him there!”

Guerin hums an agreement that doesn’t sound very convinced. Alex bristles, trying to think about how Trent _does_ trust him and not how Alex had been the one to shut down his coming with him. Trent has better things to do, that’s all. Maybe he shouldn’t have shouted that at Guerin, who looks somewhat smug to hear it. 

They’re grown men who don’t need to rely on each other. That’s healthy, right? Wanting to spend time apart isn’t trouble, it’s just a mature relationship.

(The only trouble is that this is the first time he’s really thought about Trent since he got here, and he’s pretty sure that he should be thinking of his boyfriend more often than that).

“The leg feels fine, you can stop,” Alex says curtly, mainly because he’s not sure he wants Guerin’s hands on right now. Within moments, he already seems to know exactly where to touch to make him absolutely melt.

He might be an asshole, but he’s an intuitive one who seems to be able to read Alex with ease.

Guerin’s hands are off him the instant Alex asks for it.

Now that his muscles are far from aching and twilight looms, Alex figures he should get some sleep, while he can. He grabs some clothes from his bag, gesturing towards some of the foliage nearby. “I’m gonna change, do you mind if I…”

“Go wild,” Guerin allows with a dismissive flick of his hand, digging out a flask and knocking something back that smells suspiciously like nail polish remover (a scent that Alex knows well from his teenage years). 

Once he has some privacy, Alex makes quick work of his clothes, changing into a pair of sweatpants and a hoodie, ducking back out as he puts his sneakers back on, thick socks keeping him warm.

“You don’t want to change?” Alex asks when he sees Guerin settling in for the night in the same clothes he wore all day. 

He’s got a few layers on, but Alex suspects that Guerin won’t mind the heat, given that alien internal temperatures are hotter than human, but Guerin’s still been sweating -- his unruly curls are proof of how _much_ he’s sweating. “Nah,” he confirms. “I’m good.”

“How hot do aliens get?”

Guerin smirks as he stretches out, while Alex digs out the air mattress and the pump from his backpack. His smirk is practically a lesson in lewdness, and it makes Alex grateful for the darkening night to cover up his blush.

“How hot do you want me to get? I could manage,” is Guerin’s lascivious retort.

Alex sighs. “Guerin,” he says evenly, and hands him the air mattress to inflate, along with the pump. 

Guerin takes it from him, laughing brightly. “Calm down,” he teases, still grinning all the while. “I’ll behave,” he guarantees, “unless you give me some very vocal permission, that is. I wouldn’t want you freezing out here on the way to the top.” Even though there’s still warmth in the air, it’s chilly compared to the oppressive heat of the day. Alex digs out his jacket from the bag as he eyes the ground. 

Guerin uses his powers to get the air mattress filled using Alex’s manual pump. It’s going to be a tight fit with the both of them, but Alex isn’t cruel enough to make Guerin sleep on the ground (even if he is still irritated with him). Alex checks the tarp that Guerin put up earlier, his eyes fixed on the air mattress as his mind works through how they’re going to make the small dimensions of the mattress work. 

The uncertainty must show on his face, because Guerin glances down to the bright blue air mattress as he laughs. “Oh, don’t worry. I don’t bite, unlike some of the other animals in this jungle.” 

Alex isn’t so sure he believes that about Guerin.

There were stories going around Roswell of what Guerin’s like in bed. He hadn’t wanted to drink with Alex, but he’d wanted to do plenty of other things with other people, and Alex never understood why not him. Guerin finishes with the air mattress, handing it to Alex while he’s still stuck in the past, wondering why Guerin had turned him down.

It’s an old stinging ache, but one that he’s told himself he’s done thinking about. 

Alex sits on the edge of the air mattress, taking off his shoes as he carefully navigates his way to the far side, staring at Guerin and debating whether it’s better to sleep face to face or have Guerin face away from him and risk a tangled mess of bodies in the morning.

The air mattress is too damn small to waste any space and they’re out here to nullify their bond -- Alex can survive a few nights cuddled together.

“Like this,” he says quietly, giving him a nudge to push him and plaster his front to Guerin’s back, breathing out a sigh of relief for how _warm_ Michael is, along with the steady beating of his heart that’s already lulling him to a calmer state. It’s exactly what he needs to help him along to sleep on an unknown planet, where Guerin is ready to take on any threats that come at them.

“You good?” Guerin checks, once they’ve adjusted a few times, including one time when Alex’s knee dug into Guerin’s back until he yelped.

Alex nods, resting his head on the air mattress, nearly on top of Guerin’s curls. “I think so,” he agrees, trying to steady his rapid pulse.

“Good first day,” Guerin praises. “At this clip, we’ll definitely be out of here in less than two weeks.” 

Alex isn’t so sure why the praise sits so well with him, but he attributes it to his days with the Air Force. Even if he’d left on poor grounds, there’s something to be said about being given a mission and completing it effectively. That’s what this is, deep down. It’s a mission to sever a romantic bond that the universe decided on _for_ him.

It’s even better because Guerin’s the one giving him the praise, because it leaves no guilt or doubt about the fact that he’s made the right decision doing this.

“Night, Alex,” Guerin mumbles, sounding pretty knocked out himself. 

Alex supposes that he doesn’t go on many Antarian jungle adventures these days, given how exhausted he sounds. From what Alex has seen, his day starts and stops with some lab experiments, drinking at the Pony, and the occasional one-night stand with a local.

Locals that aren’t Alex. 

Not that it still stings or anything. 

It’s still the thought he falls asleep to, irritated that it’s consuming him after all these years. 

Alex wakes up in the middle of the night alone, with Guerin’s jacket draped over him as a blanket. He tightens his fingers in the collar of it, squeezing it hard. It got chilly in the night, but rather than pressing them closer together, Guerin must have found his jacket to keep him warm. The alien in question has migrated to the ground, curled up on himself and clearly uncomfortable.

He should take it as a kind gesture. 

Instead, Alex sees it for what it likely is - another signal that Guerin wants nothing to do with Alex. Tomorrow isn’t going to be a repeat of Guerin’s rejection, if only because Guerin might be stubborn, but he’s not stupid and even he must know that this isn’t sustainable. 

They both need their rest, and the way for them to do that is to share the air mattress. 

The next morning, Alex changes behind the tarp before it’s taken down and when he comes back, Guerin’s rolled up the air-mattress and repacked all of Alex’s things apart from his sleeping clothes and the tarp. Pulling his jacket on, Alex rolls up the last of their campsite, careful to make sure they haven’t left a complete mess.

“You know these trails are inspected, right? Cleaned between severings?”

Alex gapes at Guerin. “No,” he says. “How the hell would I know that?”

“I’m saying you don’t gotta spend time worrying about your eco-footprint or whatever bullshit they call it.” 

“Maybe it’s for my own peace of mind.” With all the petty back and forth, Guerin is distracting him from the topic he actually wanted to talk about this morning. “Why’d you drift off in the middle of the night?”

Guerin’s eyes go wide, shocked at the question. “What?”

“I woke up in the middle of the night. Your jacket was on me and you were on the ground nearby.”

Guerin blinks and the shock is gone. “I woke up and we were pressed together. Like, really close together,” he admits, clearing his throat awkwardly, “I figured since we’re here to sever the bond, the last thing you wanted was for me to end up plastered up against you, so I moved and gave you my jacket to keep you warm.”

It’s chivalrous and so very stupid.

“I’m a grown man,” Alex counters. “I’d rather you be well-rested and that means sleeping on the air mattress. Since you didn’t bring your backpack with yours,” he says, still a touch bitter, “we’ll just have to make do with what we’ve got.” 

Guerin looks like he doesn’t know what to make of that, caught off guard by something Alex has said. He looks like he’s bristling a little, and Alex figures it’s about the backpack. He’s not taking it back. He put a lot of preparation into it only for Guerin to just leave it behind.

“I know this planet,” Guerin says sharply, any softness from earlier gone. “I don’t need your little _backpack_ to get through this. Whatever is out there waiting to catch us off guard, I can handle it.” 

Alex snaps the backpack shut, refusing to rise to the bait or the implication that Guerin can handle it and he can’t. Instead, he focuses his mind on their journey. The path looms before them, and Alex might have done as much preparation as he could, but now that he’s here, it’s becoming crystal clear that he doesn’t know the first thing about Antar.

Not really. 

“How difficult is this actually going to be, Guerin?”

Staring up at the jungle-covered mountain, Alex is beginning to worry about the ‘if’ that Isobel had used when wishing them luck. He’d prepared for everything, but he hadn’t done the job of mentally preparing for the idea that this wouldn’t be a successful mission. That fear intrudes now, making him worry that maybe he didn’t do enough. 

“Alex, I meant it,” he says, but there’s no charm or arrogance this time. “I’m not gonna let anything happen to you. Okay? You wanna get severed, we’ll get severed, and I’ll deliver you home safely to your boyfriend at the end of it.” 

It’s on the tip of his tongue to argue _again_ that Trent isn’t the reason he’s doing that, but it might give Guerin the wrong idea. 

Better to keep Guerin focused on the task at hand. 

It’s day two and it’s time to move.

“Let’s go,” Alex encourages, setting off towards the mountain’s peak and the end of a journey that will cut all cosmic ties with Michael Guerin.

* * *

Once they get moving, the whole thing varies between monotonous and complete heart-stopping panic. The next two days are more of the former, filled with more hiking than Alex has ever done before. At night, Guerin still helps to massage the ache from Alex’s legs (and his shoulders, which had been a new addition as of last night). They curl in together to save warmth, and subsist on Alex’s rations and what Guerin forages from the jungle. 

On day three, the heart-stopping panic kicks in. 

“Guerin, is that a jaguar?”

“Nah, we don’t have jaguars on Antar. It’s more like an _alien_ jungle cat.”

“Right.” Alex is frozen in his spot. “Well, the alien jungle cat has really sharp teeth and I think it’s staring at me like I’m lunch, so maybe let’s talk about the semantics later!” If he doesn’t move, then it can’t see him, right? Fuck, he doesn’t know, it’s not like he had a field guide for Antarian animals in their cosmically bound journeys.

“Calm down,” Guerin instructs, slowly creeping in front of him.

“I am the fucking calmest person on this planet,” Alex hisses at him, so tense that he might explode. Guerin, meanwhile, is making a run at _actually_ being the calmest person, given his complete lack of caring and nonchalant attitude.

Guerin chances a look back at him, snorting, before he turns towards the animal. He closes his eyes and goes into some kind of trance. Alex is rummaging through his bag, eager to find some kind of weapon they can use to defend themselves, but the moment his fingers latch onto a knife, Guerin opens his eyes and lets out a victory cry. 

“Got it! There. Done”

“There?” Alex echoes, pointing to where the alien jaguar is sauntering off, tail lazily wagging as he does. “How does that solve it? How do you know it won’t come back to eat me tonight?”

“We talked. You know, on the psychic plane.”

Alex gapes at him. “You’re fucking with me.”

Guerin keeps a straight face, almost apologetic.

“Wait. Are you serious? You can talk to animals?”

“Antarans have a whole bag of tricks and I’m a genius,” Guerin says with a shrug, like it’s obvious that he should have multiple abilities beyond his telekinesis. “What, you think all I could do was wiggle a few things in the air like I’m some kind of juggler?”

With the jaguar lazily loping away, Alex lets his shoulders relax, even if he’s still wary about Guerin’s alien talents and what else he could be hiding from him. It’s easy not to think about it, when Alex’s heart rate is still wild, making it seem like he’s run a marathon. 

He forces himself to take in a few more deep breaths until he’s steadier.

“Is that the kind of thing we’re gonna run up against? Because if this whole trial is just you communing with nature like some kind of Doctor Dolittle, I actually might be disappointed,” Alex admits, adjusting his straps and ignoring the genuine fear he’s still burning off.

Guerin is squinting at him, clearly lost.

“What?”

“Doctor What-little? I’m not little,” he complains sharply. 

“It’s a movie. More than one,” Alex admits, pretty sure it’s been done a few times. “You’re not really up to date on Earth culture, are you?”

“Didn’t really know if I was gonna stay, so I didn’t spend much time on the whole movie scene,” Guerin admits, nodding for Alex to follow him on the path. “Look, this place isn’t actively trying to kill us,” he points out. “It’s intended to throw a bunch of dilemmas at us to force us to work together.”

It wants to make sure that people are truly serious about severing their bond.

They clearly have never met Alex and Guerin.

Their bond got cut the moment they met because of different desires, or whatever reason Guerin had for turning him down. Alex took it as a sign not to sit around hopelessly pining and found himself a life of his own, and he’ll be damned if some galactic _gift_ is going to take that from him. 

“You swear?”

“I trained in this stuff,” Guerin promises, swearing with a hand over his heart. “Yeah, people have gotten hurt before, but that’s usually because they don’t stop to think.” He’s wandering forward without a care about where he’s going, which seems like the antithesis of what he’s saying. 

Alex opens his mouth to point it out, but digs out his compass to verify that they’re going in the right direction, because Guerin is traipsing through this place like he knows the way, but Alex knows they’re meant to be heading due-east, and the path Guerin seems to want them to follow is northwest. 

“Guerin,” Alex says warily. “Are you sure this is the way?”

Guerin stops, then looks at the well-trodden path and how it curves away from the peak. Even common sense is telling Alex that this isn’t right, but at the same time, maybe it’s just winding around to join up at another spot. 

“I’m telling you, the path goes this way,” Guerin is insisting.

Alex has a bad feeling about it. The bearings on the compass haven’t changed and though the way forward (due east) is cluttered with jungle bush and trees, that’s the way they have to go. He’s sure. The beaten path leads off to the side and that’s the one Guerin is following. The path has protected them up to now, why wouldn’t it do the same for the next leg of the journey?

Still, Alex can’t shake the feeling in his bones that something is wrong. Guerin keeps moving and Alex hurries after him, suddenly knowing that the path can’t veer that sharply without coming to a complete stop, because if they’ve been climbing, then there’s every chance that the drop offs here are enough to kill someone. 

“Guerin.”

“Look, it’ll twist around and…”

“Guerin!” Alex says again, more panicked as he starts striding towards him, hurrying and grabbing his shoulder. 

It’s just in time. 

Guerin’s right foot takes another step forward, but never plants down. There’s no ground for him to step on, because the path abruptly comes to a stop past the heavy jungle foliage blocking their view. Guerin wobbles and stumbles back a few steps, colliding into Alex’s chest. Alex wraps his arms around Guerin’s middle and holds him, cautious and careful, breathing out raggedly.

“Tell me if you’d gone off the edge, you’re the type of alien that can fly.”

Guerin says nothing, which makes Alex’s heart skip a beat.

“Guerin!”

“How the hell was I supposed to know they’d try to kill me because I was lazy,” Guerin hisses, not moving from Alex’s arms. He gets it, because right now, he wants to kill Guerin himself for the same thing. 

“You said this isn’t about killing us!” Alex frantically reminds him of words that he’d said only _moments_ ago.

“Lazy,” Guerin reminds him. “Did you bring that map?” he asks, suddenly sounding sheepish. “I should probably take a look and we should navigate off that instead of just taking the easiest path presented to us.”

There’s a metaphor in there somewhere that Alex doesn’t care to think too deeply about. 

Alex’s heart is still pounding in his chest. He’d nearly watched Guerin go off the side of a cliff to his doom and Guerin’s acting like it’d been a mild inconvenience. Alex feels the same bone-deep frustration with the man for not bothering to plan or think too much about this. It’s like he expected to just waltz through this because he’s an alien and this is his planet.

“Here,” he says, thrusting the map at him once he finally lets go of Guerin. “Can you please try not to get us killed?”

“Alex, I meant it,” Guerin says sharply, almost insulted that Alex is questioning him. “I won’t let anything happen to you. Even if you get to the top alone, you’re gonna walk out of here. Isobel will just find me and heal my grotesquely misshapen body, even if I fall off of a cliff.”

Alex isn’t feeling so convinced.

“She should at least keep one finger bent the wrong way as a reminder to not be a lazy asshole,” he mutters.

Guerin laughs brightly and wiggles his pinky. “How about this one?”

“Perfect,” Alex declares, tapping the space on the map he thinks they’re at. “I think this one is the path we’re on.” Maybe he should throw out the rest of the guide maps that show icy scenarios and mountainous ones, but he’s keeping them in case there are other tricks up the Antarans sleeves (like beaming them to another dimension to do this again). 

If the map is right, then they have to head into the deep jungle before they hit another path. 

“How are your powers with cutting down trees?”

Guerin smirks at him over the map that they’re both huddled over, like Alex has done something as stupid as _flirt_ with him instead of asking a straightforward question. “Are you asking if I’m some kind of alien machete?”

He’s not not-asking that, so Alex gives him a pointed look.

“I can hold my own,” Guerin confirms.

“Great, because that’s where we need to go,” Alex says, pointing straight into the deepest part of the jungle, with the thickest branches preventing them from stepping forward and making any progress on their journey.

Because of _course_ this can’t be easy, and of course they can’t do this quickly. 

Guerin squints and focuses, but then branches start snapping in half before his eyes, falling to the ground and giving them enough room to get through the first wave of dense foliage. One small spot down, a long way to go. 

“Guess you didn’t think to pack a sharp blade, huh?”

“Funny how they didn’t include that in the guidebook,” Alex deadpans, but one thing he did remember is that aliens need acetone if they’re going to use their powers. He digs into the side-pocket of his backpack and offers Guerin one of three closed bottles, nodding to it with encouragement. “Here.”

Guerin stares at it like it might bite him.

“You brought that for me?”

“We’re here to work together,” Alex says, not sure why Guerin is staring at him with such wonderment over such a basic thing. “You’re keeping me alive, I’m gonna make sure I do the same.” 

Alex moves forward, knowing that it’ll be slow going, but he can rip out some of the vines himself. It takes him a few minutes to realize Guerin isn’t following and when he looks back, Alex finds Guerin looking stunned, frozen in place.

The thing is, Alex has no idea what the hell he’s still lingering for, so he figures it has something to do with his powers.

(Later, much later, Alex will realize that it’s all to do with the fact that Alex is one of the few people who’s probably ever said that to Guerin. It’s a shame that he didn’t know it at the time, though he also knows it wouldn’t have changed a thing).

* * *

They’re well into their quest and other than a few more minor threats in the forms of poisonous foliage, small predatory animals, and Guerin’s _snoring_ , they haven’t run into anything they can’t handle.

It’s lulled Alex into a comfortable state of mind, which is the only reason he decides to go down memory lane and ask the question that’s been on his mind for years. 

“Why’d you turn me down?”

Guerin glances up from where he’s soaking his shirt in the clean, crystal cool-looking water of a river. He’s shirtless, sweating, and Alex kicks himself in the ass for picking now to ask why he didn’t want to go for a drink. 

There’s beads of water on Guerin’s chin from him drinking it (without Alex’s life straw because Guerin clearly has no survival instincts). That, or it’s more along the lines that aliens are a hardy sort and don’t fall victim to the same diseases that humans do.

“What? I’m here, aren’t I?”

Alex closes his eyes, venturing down that old humiliating path. “No,” he says, hating that he’s doing this, but he’s wanted to know for years and after this, who knows if he and Guerin will cross paths again. “When you first got to Roswell, I wanted to buy you a drink and you said no. Later, you went out with other people, so why not me?”

That’s what he needs to know.

“You’re my cosmically bound and you still rejected me,” Alex scoffs, shaking his head like it’s the funniest joke he’s heard in a long time. “I guess I just want to know why.”

Guerin wrings out his shirt, slapping it over his shoulder. There’s a furrow in his brow that makes a line that Alex wants to run his thumb over, like he wants to gauge just how deep it goes. 

“It wasn’t you.”

“I don’t know,” Alex says, trying to play this light and cool. “You rejected me and dated other people. That seems like it was me.”

“No, Alex,” is more insistent, even if his tone is still gentle. “It really wasn’t you. It was the timing.” Guerin approaches cautiously, keeping a small distance between them, but then it’s like he wins (or loses) an argument with himself, stepping that last bit between them to reach out and hold onto Alex’s arms, trying to get his attention by ducking a little to catch his eyeline. “I’d barely landed on Earth and everything was so new and shiny. There was so much to learn about the place and my work was all I could focus on. I also hadn’t decided, then, how long I was staying.”

Guerin’s thumbs brush against Alex’s elbows, and he gives an apologetic smile.

“By the time I’d decided to stick around, it was too late. I went to the Pony one night. You were there,” he says. “You were at the piano and you were singing this beautiful song and I thought,” Guerin says, staring just to the side, like he’s reliving it in his head, “I thought that I’d apologize for brushing you off and we’d get a drink, maybe become friends. Least I could do for being an asshole.”

“I…” Alex trails off. “Why didn’t you?”

“You finished the song,” Guerin recounts, “and then you crossed the bar and kissed a guy waiting for you with a drink.” The pressure at Alex’s arms vanishes as Guerin removes his fingers, letting him go. “Trent,” he says. “By the time I got my head out of my ass, you were dating Trent and I guess I took that as the universe’s sign that I missed my chance.”

He scoffs, the smile on his face rueful and a little pained.

“Then I wake up one morning, twenty-five years old, and there you are.”

He takes his wet shirt off his arm, wringing it out again.

“There you were.”

And here he is, on a journey with Alex to nullify the bond. For the first time in this journey, Alex feels like his feet are filled with cement, that he can’t move. Guerin said he doesn’t like being told what to do, that he wants to choose who he loves.

His heart feels like it’s about to be choked on, it’s so high in his throat. 

“Guerin…”

“Anyway, you have Trent, you have this big life, and I don’t know, maybe after this, I’ll stick around. Hang out with Isobel,” Guerin charges forward, clearing his throat as he brushes his bent knuckles over his cheek when he turns away from Alex for a moment. “You’ll be free of any obligation to me and you can decide what you want to do with your life, if it’s Trent or someone else.” 

He puts on his wet shirt, even though it has to be so goddamn uncomfortable (and even though it’s almost translucent, giving Alex a view of every one of Guerin’s abs, revealing a decent workout routine for a supposed scientist).

“Maybe one day, the stars will align and we’ll get that drink. Who knows? I know I could use some friends.” 

Alex doesn’t know what to say.

All this time, he’s been under the belief that Guerin didn’t want anything to do with him. Finding out that he and Alex just had awful timing somehow hurts _worse_. He’s not sure that he’d change anything, though. He’s had fun with Trent and he stands by his decision to sever the cosmic bond, no matter how he feels.

He’s pretty sure that even if he and Guerin were dating, he’d want to do this.

It’s up to him to decide who he’s with, not the fates or the stars.

“Here,” Guerin says, interrupting his thoughts as he pushes both canteens back to Alex. “Water’s been refilled, drink some,” he says, watching Alex like a hawk until he’s tipped it back. Once he’s finished at least half of the canteen, he lets Guerin take it back to top it up once more, tucking it into Alex’s backpack. 

The heavy conversation is still sitting with him, which makes Alex feel like he needs more privacy. Gesturing to the path ahead, he clears his throat. 

“I’ll lead.”

There’s no argument from Guerin, so they continue their trek in silence for an hour, until all that water catches up to Alex and he calls for a break. 

Ducking into the jungle, Alex unzips to take a piss, trying so hard not to think about the last time anyone but him has touched his cock. He and Trent aren’t celibate, but they’re often busy. Being with Guerin is like being exposed to a live wire -- electric, shocking, and dangerous -- but that’s not what’s putting him on edge.

It’s the nights that are wreaking havoc on him. 

At night, when they’re curled up together, Alex wants to go back in time and fight harder for that drink with Guerin. Maybe they could’ve woken up together on their twenty-fifth birthdays, and…

He cuts off that train of thought. 

Because even if he’d seen Guerin’s face when Guerin was in his bed, he would’ve wanted to come out here and sever it. It’s not about who his cosmically bound is, it’s about the fact that the universe seems to think it controls him.

Alex is so busy thinking about hypothetical pasts and futures that he doesn’t pay much attention to the rustling leaves nearby. He figures it’s just more local wildlife, or Guerin roaming around and making too much noise (as usual).

He’s about to learn that he’s very wrong. 

“Alex! Do not move,” Guerin’s voice hisses from behind him, grabbing him and yanking him back.

He really thought he’d get some privacy while he took a piss, and he turns to snap at Guerin for putting a hand on his shoulder like that, but that’s when Alex sees movement out of the corner of his eye. That is definitely a giant crab-like spider beginning to descend from a web, clacking its pincers as it seems to angle towards Alex. He zips up, frozen with fear as his mind rifles through a dozen species that it might be. He can’t put his finger on it, staring at its dozen little eyes and pincers, sort of fascinated and equally terrified of its furry spotted backside. 

“I’m just gonna…” Guerin’s voice trails off, but Alex could swear he hears, _grab you_ in his head, as an arm is wrapped around his midsection, hauling him back a skittering three steps away from the immediate danger. 

Alex feels a daze wash over him, goosebumps on his arms, a tingle down his spine, and he wonders when their bond had started to develop to the next stage, where they could share passive thoughts. Guerin’s arm is strong and warm around his torso, keeping him away from the danger and pulling Alex flush against his front to keep him away. Maybe it’s not their bond, he tells himself. Guerin is an alien, it could just be him sending a telepathic burst out.

“The venom from their fangs can paralyze you,” he murmurs, his voice soft and low in Alex’s ear. “Let’s not finish this quest with me having to carry you, because I don’t exactly do any weights on my days off.” 

“I hate your planet’s tendency to throw poisonous things into your tests,” Alex grits out, but he lets Guerin pull him away until he’s safely out of striking range.

They watch, together, as the spider-crab starts hauling itself back up its web. 

“Are we safe?”

Guerin scoffs and shakes his head. “Fuck no, not until we’re done, but that thing isn’t gonna come back around and bite you. Promise.” 

Guerin hasn’t let go of him. 

“Is your planet the alien equivalent of Australia?” he manages, his voice shaking slightly from both the fear of the close-call and the overwhelming desire to beg Guerin to _keep_ holding onto him. 

“I don’t know what that means.” 

Of course he doesn’t. 

Worse, rather than keeping a hold on Alex so he could explain, in very close detail, what Australia is, Guerin loosens his hold and lets Alex step away. He has to move, otherwise he’d have to explain why he’s not, and the last thing he needs is a return of Guerin’s smug demeanor, so Alex goes.

It’s pretty goddamn cold and lonely outside of Guerin’s arms, he thinks, heading back to camp to grab their things while his body starts rebelling on him. 

“Hey, Alex,” Guerin calls to him, following after him.

Alex feels like he did get bit, because he’s frozen in place and almost _shaking_ , but it’s not from venom. It’s his mind and body getting on the same page, whispering to him whether it would be so bad if they ended up at the top of this pyramid and at the end of this quest and he didn’t sever the bond.

“Alex?”

“Yeah, Guerin?” he finally drags himself out of his stupor, staring at him and hoping his expression is fairly even.

Guerin gives him an easygoing smile, gesturing through the clearing of trees. There’s been less tree cover and more blue sky lately, a hint that they’re getting through the dense tropical foliage and making it to the top. “Look,” he says, pointing towards a gleaming beacon at the top, something like a statue beckoning them towards the end.

They’re almost there.

This whole thing is almost over.

Then, he’ll go back to his regular Guerin-less life, without anyone he’s bound to, just like he wanted. 

That’s been the goal all along, right? 

Why does it feel so hollow and empty, then? And why does it suddenly seem like the very last thing that he wants.

* * *

It’s been almost two weeks, but the end is in sight.

Alex can see the peak up ahead, a beam of sunlight illuminating the very top of the mountain. For once, he’s not leading, and that’s mainly because he can feel himself dragging his feet now that the end is so near. They’ll go back to Roswell and their lives, and this little sliver of exception that he and Guerin have had from reality will be over.

It’s what he’d wanted.

Now that it’s almost a reality, it’s left him somewhat lethargic and despondent. 

It’s also left him distracted. There’s a hissing noise from behind him and Alex nearly turns his head to look at Guerin, but something is stopping him. It’s a telekinetic force holding him in place, and as much as he should struggle against it, something tells him to behave and play nice. 

“Don’t move,” Guerin murmurs cautiously, still keeping Alex held with that firm telekinetic hold. 

Alex freezes and feels the ghostly hold slip away, only to be replaced by a much more tangible one. Guerin brushes his fingers slowly over Alex’s cheek and down to his neck, his fingers calloused and rough, but tender in their touch as they pluck something off of Alex’s back. “Please don’t tell me what was on me.”

“Really? I mean, because it’s one of the most fascinating insects we’ve got and it only paralyzes people five percent of the…”

“Guerin,” Alex interrupts, his voice shaking slightly, watching as Guerin gently gives the centipede-butterfly abomination a soft push of telekinetic air from where he’s cupped the small thing. “How many things on this stupid planet of yours paralyzes people?”

“I don’t think you actually want to know. It’s only rarely poisonous to humans or aliens, but it’s pretty gross.”

It’s annoying how right he is. Alex does not want to know about gross insects landing on his neck and potentially feeding off him.

If they get to fill out a feedback form after this, Alex definitely has a thing or two to say about how many times he’s nearly been paralyzed because of a damn insect, and how repetitive it got (only, it had changed, hadn’t it? Not the threat, but the way he and Guerin dealt with it, and the way Alex has started to trust Guerin completely). 

He’s so damn ready to finish this and get back to steady ground where he doesn’t feel constantly bowled over by Guerin’s presence. 

Pulling away from Guerin’s hold, Alex digs his fingers into the straps of his backpack to distract himself, focusing on the path ahead of him. He’s trying to forget the feeling of Guerin’s hands on him, but his brain isn’t letting him, which is a real asshole move for his mind to pull. 

Things get oddly quiet after that. Alex is occupied with what’ll happen when they go home, but he also can’t bear to ask for Guerin’s opinion on what comes next. 

“Hey,” Guerin murmurs, catching up to him with a brisk jog. “You okay?”

He’s definitely been quieter than the rest of the journey. Alex tamps down any lingering guilt over his silence. “Yeah,” he lies. “I’m fine. Just reflecting, I guess,” he admits, glad that part isn’t actually a lie. 

He chances a look at Guerin, who’s always worn his heart on his sleeve and from the look on his face, Alex isn’t entirely sure that he’s convinced him. He can tell that Guerin’s amping up to ask him something, but Alex can see Isobel waiting for them in the clearing ahead. He picks up the pace, moving a little quicker, because the choice between being honest with Guerin and ending the time with him leaves him with no good solution.

He chooses to accelerate the end of their journey instead of thinking too long and hard about why he’s feeling so bereft without Guerin’s touch. 

“Did we break a record?” Guerin pipes up, shouting across the distance to Isobel.

“Only the one where I’m annoyed I’ve been standing here so long. Got caught up by the local wildlife?” she asks Alex with a smirk. 

He doesn’t even bother to reply, hoping the seething glare will do the job for him.

“Well, at least you two survived. I knew you could,” Isobel praises, beckoning eagerly for them to join her. When they get close enough, her eagerness turns to amusement as she focuses on Guerin. “You’re both a lot filthier than you were at the start,” she says, reaching over to critically flick at Guerin’s hair. “What is this, even?”

“ _You_ go through the trial and come out with perfect hair,” Guerin retorts.

Alex says nothing, because he’s pretty sure that she could. 

Now that he’s at the top, the exhaustion of their journey is kicking in, along with a lot of emotions he’s not sure he can name. He doesn’t have a witty contribution, and Isobel seems to see the way he’s flagging, taking pity on him. 

“Okay, let’s do this so we can all go home,” she says, and gestures for them to stand with her.

Alex knows it’s only been a few weeks since they last did this, but it feels like a lifetime ago. He honestly believes that he’s a different person now, compared to before. He’s not sure if that’s because he’s proven that he can do something like this or if it’s because of Guerin, but he knows that he’s not the same Alex Manes who left Earth to complete this quest.

“Are you both here of your own free will?” she asks.

Alex nods, seeing Guerin doing the same out of the corner of his eye. They’re both exhausted and far more somber than they were at the start of all of this. There’s a part of Alex that’s also just _sad_ because he’s been feeling highs the likes of which he hasn’t in...well, ever. 

“And do you wish to sever your cosmic bond?” 

For all his doubts, all his worries, it’s strange for Alex to reach deep down inside of him and realize that the answer is still, “Yes.” 

It’s not the universe’s call about what he feels and for whom.

That hasn’t changed, not even now. 

Guerin isn’t looking at Alex, but he says, “Yes,” with a firm conviction that leaves Alex with no doubt that this had been the right call. 

“Then, by the rights given to me as your adjudicator,” Isobel speaks, lifting both hands as a string materializes between them, shimmering pinks and purples. “I sever the cosmic bond between you, absolving you of any responsibility to one another.”

With a snap of her fingers, it cuts it two.

Alex waits for something. He waits for anything. There’s no grief, no ache, no sudden loss. It makes sense, in the most depressing of ways. He’s not feeling any loss because he never had Guerin to begin with.

Still, watching their bond physically vanish before them is one hell of a final blow. It’s a surprise, then, to turn to Guerin and see him smiling warmly at Alex, like they didn’t just decide to walk away from each other for the rest of their lives. 

“It was fun becoming your friend, Manes,” Guerin says with a fond smile.

The truth is that it really was, and instantly, Alex’s mood lifts. 

He’s smiling as he glances away from Isobel and the lingering memory of the severing string. “It was fun breaking our cosmic bond.” And weirdly, he _means_ it. He’s never really had a team before, at least, not anyone he could trust, but Guerin had been on his level in ways he hadn’t expected. 

Maybe he should have, because the universe stuck them together for a reason.

With that bond broken, it’s time to stop thinking that.

The universe didn’t stick them together. It illuminated the connection between them, showing them that they could be so good together, but the truth remains -- no one tells Alex or Guerin what to do.

“You want a ride back from the portal?” Alex offers, gesturing to where it’s illuminated and waiting for him.

“You go,” Guerin encourages. “I’m gonna stick around, catch up with Iz for a while.” 

That’s it. He’s been released. 

It’s not like he owed Guerin anything to begin with, but now that their journey has come to an end, he feels strange about leaving without saying goodbye. He knows he doesn’t want this to be the last they ever see of each other, but it’s still weird to try and figure out where he and Guerin stand.

On the one hand, they just severed their bond.

On the other, they’ve been curled up together on a nightly basis and Alex feels more comfortable with Guerin than anyone else in his life (including Trent, which he’s trying hard not to think about). 

Alex glances towards Guerin, feeling suddenly awkward about how to leave things. It feels a little strange to shake his hand after everything they went through, which is why Alex thinks that if ever a hug is due, it’s now.

Guerin’s had his hands all over him every night, they’ve been protecting one another in the wild. What’s a hug between friends?

It’s why Alex doesn’t feel awkward stepping forward and squeezing Guerin’s shoulder, tugging him into his arms, despite Guerin’s seeming shock that this is happening. Within seconds, Guerin melts into Alex’s touch, which proves that he’d made the right call. No matter what happens now, Alex feels comfortable with this man, and he feels like if ever he needs someone to back him up, Guerin will be his first call.

Reluctantly, Alex releases him when he sees Isobel staring at them suspiciously. He doesn’t want to give her anything to gossip about, especially when there’s nothing to say. 

“Safe trip home, okay?” Alex insists, bending down to pick up his backpack. There are ragged tears in it and it’s a little wet from the rainstorm they’d been caught in yesterday, but it’d served its purpose and protected them over the journey. 

He takes short steps towards the portal, glancing up to see Guerin’s gaze fixed on him.. 

Guerin gives him a wave, his eyes almost _sad_ , even though there’s nothing to be upset about. They did what they set out to do. They severed their bond. 

“Goodbye Alex.”

Alex turns at the portal, inches away from stepping through it, back to New Mexico and the rest of his normal life. “Goodbye, Michael,” he says, speaking his name and treasuring the way it sounds for the first time, on his lips. 

He steps through the portal, this time alone. 

Transported from Antar back to Earth, Alex understands that sadness in Michael’s eyes when he lands back at the New Mexico portal in the dead of night with nothing but the stars above him for company. It’s quiet, it’s expansive, it’s vast, and it’s _lonely_.

For the first time in weeks, he can’t just turn to his side and find Michael there for a comment, a conversation, or anything else. 

The realization barrels into Alex and he realizes he understands the sad look in Michael’s eyes, because he feels it in his heart. 

The journey is over, the bond is severed, and Alex can go back to his life. 

He just wishes that didn’t feel so _empty_ , as if he’s starting to understand that maybe his life isn’t what he wants to go back to. Hitching up his backpack, Alex puts that out of his mind, knowing that Trent is expecting him and he has a home to go back to. He has a life waiting for him and it’s nothing to complain about. 

Whether he likes it or not, he’s not bailing on his life. 

He’s better than that.


	3. The Reality

_Michael_.

“Goodbye, Michael,” he’d said, staring at him with those warm brown eyes, a teasing hint of a smile on his lips. “Goodbye, Michael,” Alex Manes said to him, as casual as you please, as if he’s been calling him Michael this whole time, like him using his first name hadn’t made his stomach drop out from under him like a ride at the local fair.

His heart aches to the point it feels bruised and he wonders, for the first time, what the hell he just did.

Then, he remembers, he did it for Alex. 

Once Alex is fully vanished, gone through the portal, Michael bows his head to compose himself. He doesn’t make it to composure before Isobel turns on him in disbelief, grabbing his shoulder to get his attention. 

“What is the matter with you?”

“What!” Michael protests, even if it sounds weak and pathetic to his own ears. “He wanted to break the bond, have a life of his own!”

“You are clearly into him,” Isobel snaps, staring at him like she’s seconds away from hopping into his mind and influencing him to go back and plead with Alex to take the journey again so they can reforge their connection. “Is this that old bullshit about how you don’t want to be a statistic in Antar’s cosmic system?”

“Alex understands the power of choice,” Michael says defensively. “We’re twenty-five, not twelve. We both had our own lives before this and we’re both eager to get back to them.”

Isobel’s hands are on her hips and she looks like she’s ready to eviscerate him. “Your pathetic life where you’re married to your job?” she says. “I left Earth because I couldn’t sit around and watch you bury yourself in work. There’s other things out there, you know.” 

“Iz,” Michael tries to cut off her next verbal attack. “He wanted to do it.” 

That’s what it comes down to.

Yeah, Michael had wanted to choose, but he’d been too late. Even when the universe showed him Alex’s beautiful smiling face, it had been too late. Severing the bond doesn’t mean they’re any less compatible. It just means that now they both get to choose who they want to be with. Even if it’s not each other.

“You’re just gonna let that man walk off?” 

“He has a boyfriend,” Michael says, and the painful part is, “I let him walk away years ago and that led to him finding someone who does love him. It doesn’t matter what I feel about him now, because I didn’t do the right thing back then.” 

Isobel looks like she wants to throw things at him.

“I hate when you’re noble and do the right thing,” she complains. “Are you coming back to Antar, then?”

It’s a good question. The truth is, Michael’s not ready for that. Even if Alex is with Trent, he thinks he should try to be his friend and that requires sticking around. Besides, now that he’s figured out which Earth beer he likes best, is he really going to give that up?

(Weak excuses, he knows, but it’s easier to make them instead of thinking about the real reason he wants to stay)

“I’m an Earth-fan,” Michael says unapologetically. “You could always come visit more when you aren’t getting off on being high and mighty severing bonds.”

“It makes me feel better about my sad life,” Isobel protests. She looks like she’s about to board a pity train for him, which is the last thing that Michael wants. He just had the most incredible two weeks with a guy he’s been crazy for. Boyfriend or not, Michael’s happy to have had this experience with Alex. “You deserve some love, you know, even if you are letting it walk away from you.” 

He tips his head to the side to give her a look that says he doesn’t need to hear it again. 

“Make me a promise,” Isobel says, when Michael tries to make his escape. She has to grab at his wrist to do it and hold him back, but he lets her pull him in. 

He’s not going to like this, but he’s never been able to say no to Isobel. “What?”

“If you get the chance with him, you go for it.”

He opens his mouth to protest -- he’s not even sure what about, maybe the boyfriend, the severing, or just the fact that Alex knows what he wants and it’s not him -- but she cuts him off.

“Michael,” she warns.

“Fine,” he allows. “If, for some reason, Alex is suddenly single and he’s decided he wants to give me another shot, then yes. I’ll go for it.” 

Michael really doesn’t see that happening, so it’s easy to make the promise to Isobel. Seeing as it makes her smile as big and bright as it does, he doesn’t even feel guilty making empty promises to her.

He’s nowhere near lucky enough for Alex to suddenly be single. 

Michael already got lucky once when he woke up on his twenty-fifth birthday to find out that his cosmically bound was Alex Manes. It’s only a shame that he’d been an unlucky asshole before that and had dashed all his chances with him. He has to live with that, and he has to live with the severed connection.

Luckily, he’s a grown and mature alien. 

He can handle a little heartbreak.

* * *

“Hey? Earth to Alex? You in there?”

Alex didn’t realize he’d zoned out again. He turns back to Trent, giving him an apologetic smile as he curls in with him under the blankets, trying to get his attention back on the documentary they’ve been watching. “Funny,” he says evenly.

“What is?”

“The joke? About Earth to…?” Alex stares at Trent, realizing that it hadn’t been on purpose. He shifts in his arms, trying not to be disappointed that it isn’t the furnace-like warmth that Michael gave off when they curled up at night, which had soothed Alex to sleep. “Sorry,” Alex apologizes, feeling weird that he’s been thinking about Michael. 

Everything’s felt weird since he got back, honestly. 

The mood turns awkward, to the point that Trent leans over to turn off the television. “Are we gonna talk about this? What is it? Did you decide to keep the bond?”

“No,” Alex protests instantly, gaping at Trent. “No, we broke our bond. I don’t have any cosmic attachments to anyone.” 

“That doesn’t really explain why things feel so different between us.” Trent shakes his head as he pushes the blanket off him, holding his head in his hands as he massages his neck with his fingers. Alex can almost feel the stress coming off him and he feels guilty as hell for being the one to bring it on. “You were gone for weeks, I just thought that it would take a while to sever it, but now I worry that you deliberately delayed your return.”

“It did take weeks!” Alex’s frustration is mounting, and he feels this relationship slipping through his fingers. “It’s not like we just signed a form, you have to go through a bunch of trials to make sure that you really want to dissolve it, and we still _did_.” 

It’s just that he hasn’t been able to stop thinking about how comfortable it was with Michael, the way they solved problems together, how they worked like a team. He can’t stop thinking about those gentle touches, how Michael had felt so easy and at home within his thoughts, and how Michael had wanted him, once. 

Their timing just hadn’t worked out.

It’s not like they’d had passionate sex on that trial course, but Alex feels like he’d developed something deeper with Michael – an understanding about how they fit together, but that doesn’t necessarily mean he has to end his relationship with Trent, does it?

“Do you still want me?” Trent asks.

“Always,” Alex vows immediately, sincere in that.

“Do you want him?”

Alex freezes, because he wants to be honest. He doesn’t want to think about the fact that he’s been dreaming about Michael since his twenty-fifth, and it only increased in frequency in that jungle. “There’s a connection,” is his weak protest. “We spent weeks together, I’d be lying if I said I don’t, and I don’t want to lie to you.”

Trent nods, slow and heavy. “One more,” he says, his voice subdued and hollow, like he already knows the answer to the question he’s about to ask. “Do you think that you could be happy with me, knowing what’s out there for you otherwise? Connected or not?” 

“Yes,” Alex insists. “I could.”

“I’d have to accept that you were only happy enough,” Trent says bitterly. “I’d have to accept that I couldn’t make you the happiest that you could be.” He inhales sharply, and then continues. “I lied.” Trent looks up at him, his gaze crushed, as if he already knows what asking this next question means. “I need to know one more thing, because I need to know who it is that can make you happier than I can. Will you tell me who it was?”

Alex hesitates.

He can’t, because if he does, he doesn’t trust himself not to light up at the memory of him. He doesn’t want Trent to go scare Michael off the planet.

 _Oh_ , Alex thinks, aware of how things have shifted, and how it hadn’t been just a one-off when they’d said goodbye.

He’s stopped being Guerin. He’s _Michael_. Bond or not, Alex knows that his heart has made a decision and that choice is steering him somewhere that isn’t his comfortable home with his safe boyfriend.

“I don’t think I should do that.”

Trent gives a hollow-sounding laugh. “I guess I don’t need to ask.” It _hurts_ to look at him, but Alex can’t look away. “I just need to wait a few weeks and I’ll be able to see it when I see you happy.”

“ _You_ made me happy,” Alex protests quietly.

“I made you comfortable,” Trent corrects. “And you did the same for me. There’s nothing wrong with that. The thing is, Alex, that I turn twenty-five in a few months and I don’t know if our relationship can survive one more person in it. Three’s already a crowd.”

“What are you saying?”

Trent settles on the edge of the bed, staring at him sadly. “You know what I’m saying.” 

Alex exhales roughly, feeling like his chest is being scraped with sandpaper. Trent’s not going to go on the severing journey when he turns twenty-five. It’s clear, in this moment, that he’s looking for his own person that can make him happier than Alex Manes, and honestly, it’s not like Alex can blame him.

“I really did go on that journey trying to make a future for us,” Alex says quietly, staring at Trent as the ache in his heart deepens into something he knows will take a while to heal. “I wanted to make sure the universe couldn’t tell us what to do.”

“Maybe that’s the problem,” Trent admits. “Maybe us thinking we’re smarter than the cosmos was our first mistake.” 

Alex feels like he’s been shot and left to bleed out. 

It hurts so badly because he really thought he’d been doing the right thing by going on that mission for _himself_ and, to a lesser degree, for Trent. 

Except, now he’s sitting here with his boyfriend, who’s just admitted that he’s going to take his cosmic bond as more important than his connection with Alex. 

“I’m sorry, Alex,” Trent says quietly. “I really am. I’m sorry. I was hoping against all hope that you’d wake up on your twenty-fifth and see me. I think we both know from the moment you didn’t that we had a shelf life.”

Knowing it and experiencing the inevitable end are two very different things and Alex is fighting the urge to shout and scream and beg. 

This isn’t how it’s supposed to go. 

So why does it also feel like it’s the only way it could’ve? 

“So that’s it,” Alex says, feeling hollowed out and empty. “We’re done, just like that.”

“We were done the morning of your twenty-fifth birthday and we both know it.”

It’s the worst thing in the world knowing that Trent is right. Alex curls into Trent’s side, unwilling to move just yet, and closes his eyes tightly. Trent, being the good almost-ex-boyfriend that he is, wraps his arm around Alex and holds him, kisses the top of his forehead, but says nothing else. 

There are no platitudes, no promises, and no take backs.

It’s really over. 

Alex intends to start thinking about what that means tomorrow. Tonight, he wants to hold tight to the comfort of someone who loves him while he still has it.

* * *

Contrary to what Trent likely expects of him, Alex doesn’t go running to Michael that night.

He doesn’t go to him the next day, the next week, or even the next month. It takes time to separate his life from Trent’s and to give himself proper time to heal. Sorting through their possessions alone had taken a few weeks, and by the time Alex’s home is his own once more, it’s been seven weeks since he finished severing his bond with Michael.

Alex didn’t realize how much stuff in the apartment belonged to Trent until suddenly it’s all gone. 

The place looks like a showroom floor given how little personalization there is. Other than Alex’s instruments, he doesn’t have art or books or pictures. He’d been happy to let Trent’s interests and decorative styles adorn their home, swept up in the wave of being happy and in love with his boyfriend.

Now that he’s gone, it’s a clear physical manifestation of the emptiness he feels within him. 

It’s that urge to end the loneliness that has him reaching for his phone to call Michael, until he runs into a problem. He doesn’t have his number.

After _all_ they went through together, Alex hadn’t stopped to think about getting his phone number.

Lucky for Alex, he knows where Michael hangs out. 

It’s been a while since he’s gone out, which is why he’s not surprised when he turns up for 90’s night at the Wild Pony and Maria does a double-take. 

“You know, I swear, I know someone who looks just like you,” she says, bringing him in for a tight hug. “I liked getting wine-drunk at your place, but it’s good seeing you out in public,” she insists. “Big improvement, coming back out into the world and looking pretty handsome to boot.”

“Thanks,” he says, trying not to let his eyes go straight to Michael’s usual spot at the bar to see if he’s there. “I’m not actually here to commiserate or drink. I’m looking for someone.”

“Oh?” Maria glances back to where Alex is looking, landing on Michael. “Talk about another sad sack,” she says, shaking her head. “Ever since you got back from your severing quest, he’s been gloomy. He doesn’t go home with anyone, just sits at my bar and drinks. He’s started paying his tab though, so whatever you did on that planet, thank you.” 

Alex has a bad feeling it’s not a good sign. If Michael’s started to wrap up loose ends, there’s every chance that he’s figuring out a way to head back home. 

“Should I warn Guerin to be nice?”

Alex is fairly sure that he’s the one doing the damage here, seeing as he’d dragged Michael back to his home planet to sever their bond. “It’s fine,” he vows, hoping that Maria takes him at face value.

Whether she believes him or not, the Pony is too busy for her to give him any more grief, which means Alex gets to make his move. 

“Room for one more?” 

Even though Michael seems like he’s intent on discovering all the secrets at the bottom of his beer, he practically jumps when he hears Alex’s voice. “Alex! Hey!” he says, filled with excitement. “Here, sit,” he encourages, moving his papers and blueprints to make a spot for him.

It’s so comically opposite of what happened the first time they met that Alex wants to laugh. 

Still, he’s not about to run away, not when he’d come here specifically for Michael. 

“I have really amazing news,” Alex shares, smiling gratefully at Maria when she slides over a beer. 

Michael bites. “Okay?”

“I haven’t come face to face with a single poisonous creature since I left your planet,” he says. “Can you believe that? I think I went from three interactions a day to basically none. I’m sending a letter,” he quips.

“You should,” Michael says, huffing out a soft laugh that makes his eyes crinkle in a way that seems to make the light catch the flecks in them. “Maybe the next time someone goes on a quest, it’ll just be cuddly little animals that make you think about how badly you wish you were bonded to one of those things. Or maybe they’d just aggressively cuddle you to death. Different kinds of danger, right?” 

“I don’t know. I had an alien cuddling me every night and it only made me want to stay.”

He can see the moment it hits Michael that Alex is flirting with him. 

Michael doesn’t know what to do with it. Alex gets it. He’d asked them to sever their connection, he’d been adamant about not wanting to be with him, he had a boyfriend, and now he’s talking about how much he’d like curling up with Michael. He can understand how that might cause a little whiplash.

Alex sips his beer casually, deeply enjoying how unsettled he’s managed to make Michael. 

“Uh....”

Alex tips his neck back to swallow, knowing that he’s giving Michael a hell of a show. He takes pity on him, because it’s not fair to come out and practice his flirting game on him like this, especially when Alex himself isn’t sure what he wants. Mostly, he’s lonely, and that’s not going to be solved with a one-night stand.

He’s got his friends, but his and Trent’s friends are off limits for a while. The thing is, even with people to talk to, Alex feels like something’s missing.

A romantic might say that it’s the absence of a cosmic binding, but Alex knows better.

It’s spending weeks with someone and learning how well you work together, only to go cold turkey. Alex misses Michael’s conversation, his jokes, his bright smile, and easy laugh. He misses being frustrated with him for not bothering to plan, and for being so wildly smart that he should know better.

The truth is that he misses Michael, simple as that.

“Don’t worry, I’ll leave your honor intact,” Alex gives Michael a break. “I’m after something a lot simpler. I realized when I got back here that I don’t have a way to contact you.”

“Why?” Michael asks suspiciously. “You leave something behind on Antar you want me to get?”

“I was thinking more, I’d like to be able to call you for a drink instead of showing up and hoping you’re here,” Alex counters, digging out his phone and sliding it across the bar to him. He really hopes that he doesn’t seem desperate, because the last thing he needs is for Michael to feel pity for him.

Michael, though, reaches for Alex’s phone, _fast_. 

It’s almost like he’s afraid Alex is going to change his mind and take it away from him. Alex ducks his head down, trying to hide his pleased smile, but he already knows he’s an open book. 

Michael hands it back, nodding to the new contact in the phone under ‘Alien Snuggle Buddy’. 

“Nice,” Alex laughs appreciatively. 

“Giving the people what they want,” he quips. “How have you been adjusting since you got back?” 

Alex debates how much truth he should be telling. 

There’s a lot that’s happened since he landed back on Earth. The big one is that he and Trent broke up, but he also doesn’t want to lead with that because he doesn’t want Michael to think that he’s only here because he wants to hook up. He likes Michael, maybe even in that way, but that’s not all he likes about him and it seems wrong to reduce it down to only that. He’s gone through a breakup and come out the other side understanding how much he wants Michael Guerin, but not knowing how to say that without it coming off wrong.

“Oh, you know,” he says, casual as anything. “Less poisonous threats. Way more takeout options,” he deadpans. “I’m doing fine,” he says, which isn’t even a lie. “You?”

“Well, I just gave a cute guy my number,” Michael leans in to whisper to him. “So I think I’m doing okay.” 

Alex blushes, realizing that he’s not the only one capable of throwing someone off their game. He rubs at his cheeks to try and keep the color from giving away too much, because he really does want to take this slow. 

If he even ends up taking it past friendship at all.

Smoothly, he tucks the phone away into his back pocket, but only after he’s sent Michael a text, insisting that he be saved in his phone as the “Former Cosmic Hottie”. He takes immense pleasure in watching Michael cackle the second he sees it, but he shakes his head and doesn’t argue. 

“You’re only former when it comes to our connection,” Michael insists, like he needs to clarify as he types it into his phone. “You’re still a hottie. Isobel had plenty to say about my idiocy in letting you go.”

Alex’s heart is beating faster, not even having considered the fact that Isobel and Michael might gossip about him -- or, worse, talk seriously about Michael chasing him down. 

“Oh?”

It’s the best he can manage. He doesn’t want to ask, for fear of what Michael might actually say.

“Yeah, well,” Michael mumbles, scrubbing a hand through his curls. “I might be an idiot, but I’m one who respects boundaries and you made it plenty clear what you wanted. So nothing else matters.”

Those words are going to rattle around in his head a _lot_ in his head over the next few weeks.

Right then and there, Alex decides they need to change the subject before things get really dangerous. It’s already bad enough, the last thing he needs is to start going down a path where he asks Michael what it would take to matter again. They made their decision. They stood on top of a mountain and swore it.

Now, it’s time to move on and start from scratch -- first comes friendship.

It’s time for them to find out if they can be friends outside of a journey that’s doing its best to kill them. “Another round?” Alex offers, wincing a little at how quickly he’d drank this one down. 

Luckily, Michael doesn’t seem to care.

“This one’s on me,” he says, signalling Maria for two fresh beers. 

For now, Alex is safe. They won’t talk about _nothing else matters_ and they don’t have to ask each other why they’re flirting. They’re just two friends having a drink in a public bar, with lots of witnesses around to make sure that this doesn’t tilt sideways and become a situation that Alex isn’t ready to handle. 

He can do this.

No, more than that. He wants to do this. 

He wants Michael Guerin in his life. For now, that means friendship. That’ll buy him the time he needs to figure out what else he might want from him later.

* * *

Once Alex has Michael’s phone number, he makes frequent use of it.

He takes Michael out for ice cream and mini-golf to introduce him to the eclectic Roswell Putt Putt Zone. Michael, in return, brings Alex by the junkyard to show off the inventions he’s been putting together on clean energy and new technologies for the local farmers. They wind up grabbing dinner twice a week, drinks on Saturdays, and Michael is a steady fixture at Alex’s open mic night.

They’re friends, but they’re not.

They’re also not boyfriends, but Alex has been wondering _why_ not, and whether it’s because he’s stubborn about the idea. It’s not a problem he can solve alone, which is why he brings it up to Maria the next time he’s at the Pony. He goes a little early, expecting Michael to show up in thirty minutes, which should give him plenty of time.

It takes five minutes to give her the rundown, and it takes Maria exactly one to see past his facade.

“So you want him, but you’re ashamed you do because you spent two weeks telling him that you didn’t.”

He hates when she’s psychic like that. 

“You know he’s waiting on you, right?” Maria keeps talking, like she hasn’t finished digging the knife in and twisting it. “He knows about your breakup, but he’s being polite. From the conversation he was having with Isobel that I may have happened to eavesdrop on…”

“Maria,” Alex warns.

“Hey, my bar,” Maria defends, “My right to hear the gossip. It sounds like you’re in the driver’s seat on this one.”

It would have been nice to know that a few weeks ago. Alex doesn’t remember ever having been given that kind of control and power. He wants it. He knows he does. He just also knows that it’s taking a lot more effort to swallow his pride than he’d expected. 

“Look, the way I see it, there’s a difference between dating and being cosmically bound,” she says, leaning over the bar to keep their conversation private. 

Alex shoots her a disbelieving look. “Easy for you to say when you’re stupidly in love with yours.”

“I got lucky. I got Rosa,” Maria says simply. “You decided you didn’t want the universe to tell you what to do, but does that really mean you intend to sit around and let that indecision plague the rest of your life? Alex,” she chides. “That alien wants you. You want him. Who cares that an invisible little purple-pink string got cut in two, what do you want?”

“Him.”

It’s the surest thing that Alex has ever said, almost like Maria had punched him in the gut and his instant reaction had been to say he wants Michael. He sits back, stunned, almost like he can’t believe how clearly he could say that, after everything they’d gone through.

He decides that he’s done pretending he’s not the one in control. He spent two weeks on a quest proving to the universe that he’s in charge. He’s not about to let his own doubts disprove that. 

Alex Manes wants Michael Guerin.

There. He’s thought it.

“I want Michael,” he says out loud. 

The universe doesn’t strike him down. He doesn’t get rapped on the knuckles for admitting to a truth he’s known for years. He doesn’t even feel guilty that he’d made them go on that journey together, because he knows it’s clarified what he wants and how good they could be together. 

String or no string, they have a connection.

Alex even likes the idea that they’re _more_ connected because they chose one another. 

Maria smacks him with her towel. “Then go get him.”

It doesn’t take long for Alex to think up a plan. Mainly because his great big plan involves being honest with Michael, which is something that he’d managed to do with ease on Antar. Why not try it here on Earth? 

The first bit of his plan means nothing has to change. Michael comes to him because they already had plans. Michael greets him with a hand on his back and a kiss to his cheek, which Alex breathes in. He lets it linger, knowing that he has to wait until _after_ , but those tempting moments want to convince him otherwise.

“I got us a table and some beers,” Alex says, gesturing to where they’re set up at the front of the bar, near the stage.

Michael tugs off his coat to put it on the back of the chair, glancing back to the bar. He looks suspicious and given the fact that Maria’s gaze is fixed on him with a hawk-like stare, he doesn’t blame Michael for being wary. 

“Is she pissed at me or something? I paid my tab,” Michael mutters, adorably clueless.

“Nah, she’s glaring at me,” Alex vows, taking a seat that half-faces the stage and is angled towards Maria so he can wave at her in hopes to call off her intense looks. 

If she doesn’t quit it, Alex won’t get a chance to romance Michael because she’ll have scared him off. He tries to brush her off, because he doesn’t need this ruined before he even starts. It’s not like he’s worried Michael will turn him down this time, but the precedent exists, so it’s not completely out of the question of it happening.

And, honestly, he’d really like to avoid having his ego trampled like that - again.

Michael seems to want to discuss Maria’s weird staring, but he doesn’t get a chance when the first open mic act wanders onto the stage to introduce himself and his country stylings. Alex is pretty relieved, because the middle of the Pony isn’t where he wants to have this conversation.

That night, they enjoy the open mic acts.There’s the usual talent, the usual cringeworthy acts, and through it all, Alex finds himself watching Michael more than he does the stage. 

In the soft lights, he’s entrancing and just as handsome as he’d been on Antar when Alex had been swept up in staring at him as they made their journey. He’s filled with the same hope and excitement as before, which Alex takes as good signs that he’s making the right call. 

Damn his pride. This is what he wants.

When the night is over, Michael lifts his jacket from the back of his chair, already opening his mouth to bid Alex goodnight, the way he has every single time they’ve done this before. 

Alex gets there first.

“Come stargazing with me.” When it seems clear that he’s stymied Michael into silence, Alex continues on with a sly smile, knowing that he’s got him. “Or have you seen them all, being an alien from outer space?”

“I’ll never see enough of them,” Michael says, staring at Alex wondrously, almost like he can’t quite believe what he’s looking at. “Especially not with great company. Alex...are you…” He hesitates and Alex can hear the question on his lips, about whether he’s sure. 

It should be no different than any other time they hang out, but it is. 

“Please,” Alex reiterates, a little softer as he reaches out to press his palm to Michael’s soft suede jacket. “Come out to Foster’s Ranch with me and watch the stars?”

Michael doesn’t say a word, but he doesn’t have to.

He’s agape, mouth half-open as he nods, as if Alex’s request has robbed him of the ability to speak. 

“Good,” Alex says. “You can drive,” he says, having noticed that Michael had stopped at the one beer during the second act, picking at the label on the bottle the rest of the time. Alex hasn’t been drinking much either (bolstering his courage), but he wants to take a ride in Michael’s truck after thinking about it for so long.

Michael blinks at him, his lips curving up in amusement. “Good to see you’re just as bossy and controlling on Earth,” he quips, nodding for Alex to follow him.

“I know what I want,” Alex guarantees. 

He climbs into the passenger seat and rests his hand on the bench seat, a little closer to Michael than necessary. Michael glances down to his fingers and presses his hand on top of Alex’s for a moment, moving to the parking brake next and brushing their fingers together. “Fosters Ranch, huh?”

“I hear the view is unparalleled,” Alex says, even if he knows the view anywhere will be perfect, so long as he’s got Michael with him.

The drive out takes twenty minutes and helps to clear some of Alex’s doubts. Now that he’s accepted that he does want Michael, it doesn’t matter that he spent two weeks trying to shake him off, or years trying to wash away a stinging hurt that he’d let grow out of proportion. Their enemies aren’t indifference or hate.

It’s just bad timing.

Once Michael parks, Alex grabs his jacket to slide into it, wandering around the Chevy as his boots crunch against gravel and dust. The headlights blink off and they’re left with nothing but an expanse of sky, gorgeous and endless and intimidating. It’s a perfect blanket to cover them and the best possible backdrop for what Alex has in store.

“What about here?” Michael asks, leaning into the bed of his truck to dig out some blankets, pointing to a small strip of dirt a few yards away.

The ground’s flat for miles, so it’s not like any one spot is better than the others, but this one doesn’t seem to have any brush they’d disturb or local fauna and flora, so Alex gives him a nod of confirmation. Once he’s got the blanket laid out, Alex crawls onto it and leans back on his elbows, adjusting his jacket so the desert night doesn’t nip at his skin.

“Easier than an air mattress,” Michael says, collapsing in a heap beside Alex. “Not as comfortable, though.”

“We’re not exactly in our usual position,” Alex points out.

There’s a long moment of silence, one that creeps towards awkwardness. “No,” Michael finally replies, slowly and carefully, almost like he’s trying to figure out what Alex’s game is. “I didn’t think it’d be right to spoon with you in the middle of the desert, even if you did invite me to come stargazing, which is a pretty romantic offer after we’ve been hanging out so much.”

He’s right. It’d be pretty forward. 

At least, it would be if Alex hadn’t invited Michael out here with the intention that this is a date. 

“I broke up with Trent,” Alex says, watching falling stars hit the atmosphere. He’s not looking at Michael, wary of the reaction he’ll see. “I think you already knew that.”

There’s another pause, but this one is shorter before Michael speaks. “I did,” he confirms. 

Alex chances a look, catching Michael’s curious gaze. “You want to know if it was because of you.”

“The question did come up,” Michael agrees, leaning on his elbow. “You were all gung-ho about getting back to Trent and your life. I figured once you walked away, I wasn’t gonna get another shot.”

“I thought so too,” Alex admits, and mimics the way Michael is lying. It gives him the ability to reach out and slide his fingers over Michael’s forearm, brushing little strokes at the wrist as he debates what he’s about to admit. “Breaking the bond had nothing to do with Trent and everything to do with me. The journey just highlighted that if Trent were the right one, he would’ve taken me at face value and trusted that. I came back to him, but he kept thinking about who I was with on Antar and…” Alex lets out a huff of laughter. “And then he admitted that he was pretty sure that come his twenty-fifth birthday, he’d be doing his own chasing instead of severing.”

“You think that was his plan all along?”

“I think he was waiting to see who he got,” is Alex’s wry assessment of the situation. “He was safe. My birthday was first and if I saw him, then he was in the clear.”

Michael bats his lashes, leaning forward into Alex’s space. He’s so close that Alex could kiss him, and Michael knows it. “You saw me, though,” he whispers. 

“I did see you,” Alex agrees. “And I don’t regret for a single second what we did.”

“Then why are we stargazing?”

“Are we?” Alex doesn’t think he’s caught sight of a single star in the last five minutes. “The only thing I see that’s out of this world is you,” he says, wishing that he could keep from smirking smugly, but he can’t. 

Michael snorts and falls onto his back, curls pressed against the blanket. “Cheesy asshole,” he accuses with delight. 

“I still mean what I told you on Antar. The thing is, that doesn’t rule a relationship between us out,” Alex says, hoping that makes sense. He’s inching closer, trying to close that space between them not only because he wants to warm up, but because he’s got something he needs Michael to understand and it only works if they’re _really_ close. “I want us. This. I want this to be a date, and I want you.”

“You want me,” Michael echoes, blinking like Alex has presented him with an unsolvable problem and not a declaration of intent. “What are you saying, Alex?”

He doesn’t want to _say_ anything else. That’s the point. He’s tired of talking. Instead, Alex decides to take action and also to take advantage of the way Michael is sprawled out on the ground. With firm, sharp, definite movements, Alex crawls on top of Michael and straddles him, pressing his hands to his hips. 

“I want you.”

To punctuate it, he rocks his hips, hearing the hiss of air Michael sucks in between his teeth. “G-got that,” he stammers, clearing his throat. “Wait, maybe I don’t,” is a rapid change, his eyes flashing like he just got a great idea. “Maybe you should show me what you mean.” 

Luckily, Alex has been planning for just that. 

He slides his fingers over Michael’s cheek, staring at him like he’s seeing him for the first time. It’s almost like he’s seeing him the way he’d seen him the morning of his twenty-fifth birthday. He’s ethereal and hopeful and scary, because this is on them to figure out with no assist from the universe.

It’s exactly the way Alex wants it. 

He bends to close the gap between them, fingers sliding through Michael’s curls as he holds on with a gentle tug, living out a fantasy he’d had so many nights after Trent left him. “Michael,” he murmurs, a kiss of air against Michael’s cheek before Alex closes the gap and gently presses their lips together for the first time.

He closes his eyes as he melts into it, Michael’s hand on his shoulder, thumb squeezing a little too tight as the kiss deepens. It’s a sign of his nerves, though Alex is sure that Michael can feel the frantic pounding of his heartbeat, being so close. 

It really is cosmically superior to any kiss he’s had before, even with their bond severed. 

Alex drifts back to stare at Michael, raising a brow. “Get the point?” He rises up a little more, mindful that they are still on a technical first date and as much history as they have, Alex still doesn’t put out after one kiss. 

“I think I do. Maybe.” His brow furrows and he gives Alex a wary look. “You know, they can rebind severed bonds,” Michael says, though he doesn’t sound too excited about it. Alex has just crawled off of Michael and collapsed on the picnic blanket that he’s strewn out over normal old Earth terrain. 

“Let me guess. On that journey, we have to fight all the ice-spider crabs and woolly mammoths on Antar,” Alex deadpans. 

Michael laughs brightly, sliding his fingers over the back of Alex’s palm. It’s an absent little touch, but it makes Alex shiver for the desire that swells in him for the tiniest little motion. It’s everything he’s wanted for years, and it makes his heart sing to realize he doesn’t have to earn that though another journey or quest. 

It’s right here in front of him for the taking and he’s already grabbed it with both hands.

“I don’t need a string that ties me to you,” Alex says quietly. “What we have, what I feel, that’s enough. Besides, two stubbornly independent assholes crawling back and admitting that we might have been wrong…?”

“When you put it that way,” Michael quips. 

“So, we’re doing this,” Alex says, his eyes bright. “We’re doing this because I like you and you like me. We’re doing it because we have a connection that we discovered through conversation and time spent together, and we don’t need to prove it to anyone. What matters isn’t that the universe chose you for me. What matters is that I’m the one who chose you.”

They’d started the night stargazing, but even though Alex had crawled off Michael, his declaration has turned Michael’s hands into little magnets eager to be drawn to their opposite pole (which happens to be Alex’s body). 

That declaration tips them over the edge. 

Michael cups his cheek, practically falling over him as he bears him back onto the blanket. “And I choose you right back,” he murmurs, those straying hands pulling Alex in for a kiss that’s every bit as dreamy as the first. It’s so damn good that it leaves Alex feeling smug about the fact that he’d packed supplies in his backpack (just in case he abandons his principles about first dates). 

Let’s see Michael laugh at him ever again for being ready for anything. 

Michael’s not doing much laughing right now. He’s too busy dragging his thigh between Alex’s legs, his fingers sliding between the hair on Alex’s scalp, pressing in as he kisses him like he’s trying to devour him whole. They might not have a bond, but kissing Michael still feels like there are fireworks going off in the night sky. 

It’s cruel and unfair for Michael to make those needy little sounds he does, which is only making Alex wish he’d done this during the journey on Antar, so they could have at least had a little fun on their way to sever their bond.

“Michael,” he pleads.

“Yeah?” he breathlessly replies. “You seriously want to talk?”

“I wanna figure us out before I get lost in those stupidly sexy noises you’re making,” Alex growls at him, pressing two fingers to his lips. Michael almost instantly ruins it by nipping at the tips, making Alex pull them back with a sudden laugh. “I’m serious! What are we doing? Are we just making out? Are we together? Are we dating?”

“The last one, yeah. Dating,” Michael quips with a smirk. “We’re doing this. And anything else you’ll let me do once you let me off my leash”

“This doesn’t mean I want to become your cosmically bound again.”

Michael makes a little pouting face, wrapping his arm around Alex to tug him in. “Really? Do you kiss everyone you know like that? Here I thought I was getting the special treatment because we’re connected. Well, we were connected, until we let Isobel take the metaphorical axe to our bond.”

Alex is going to hit him, is what’s going to happen. “Shut up, you know what I mean, I just…”

“I get it, Alex. I like you too. We don’t need to let fate tell us what to do. It’s you and me against the universe. No cosmic bonds required.”

Well, when he puts it like that, who the hell is Alex to argue? 

The peace treaty might have given people a connection they never would have found, but Alex thinks that even without it, he and Michael would have figured it out. They don’t need the universe to tell them they belong together.

It’s written someplace better than the stars.

It’s in their every breath and word and action; Alex will take that over a string _any_ day.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [if we can make it to the morning, we can make things right [artwork]](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28130106) by [EmmaArthur (EchoBleu)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/EchoBleu/pseuds/EmmaArthur)




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